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THE  PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 

NEW  YORK  • BOSTON  • CHICAGO  • DALLAS 
ATLANTA  • SAN  FRANCISCO 


MACMILLAN  & CO.,  Limited 

LONDON  • BOMBAY  • CALCUTTA 
MELBOURNE 

THE  MACMILLAN  CO.  OF  CANADA,  Ltd. 

TORONTO 


THE 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


BY 

PERCY  GARDNER,  Litt.D. 

LINCOLN  AND  MERTON  PROFESSOR  OF  CLASSICAL  ARCHAEOLOGY 
IN  THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  OXFORD 


Neto  gotfe 

THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY 
1914 


All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1905,  1914, 

By  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 

up  and  electrotyped.  New  Revised  and  Enlarged  Edition.  Published 
January,  1914. 


Norfoooti  Press 

J.  S.  Cushing  Co.  — Berwick  & Smith  Co. 
Norwood,  Mass.,  U.S.A. 


PREFACE 


In  1905  I published  a little  work  called  A Grammar  of 
Greek  Art , intended  to  set  forth  the  leading  principles  to  be 
traced  in  the  surviving  monuments  of  ancient  Hellas,  archi- 
tecture, sculpture,  and  painting.  The  present  book  is  an 
enlargement  of  the  Grammar.  Chapters  I-XII,  XVIII, 
XXI  have  been  mostly  rewritten,  IV  and  XI  being  quite 
new.  The  other  chapters  have  been  revised  and  corrected. 
Twenty -five  new  illustrations  are  added,  and  the  bulk  of 
the  book  increased  by  about  a third.  The  title  is  altered 
from  Grammar  to  Principles , as  I found  that  the  former 
title  was  misunderstood. 

At  present,  as  every  one  knows,  Greek  studies  and  the 
Greek  element  in  education  are  falling  back,  and  there  is 
a danger  of  the  immense  value  of  the  legacy  of  Hellas  to 
the  modern  world  being  underrated.  Against  this  tendency 
I am  anxious  to  contend,  side  by  side  with  my  friends  the 
lovers  of  Greek  literature,  and  indeed  with  all  humanists 
in  every  country. 

The  illustrations  in  the  text  are  of  a varied  character. 
Each  of  them  was  chosen,  not  for  its  own  sake,  but  to  illus- 
trate some  principle.  I have  had  to  borrow  from  many 
sources ; in  every  case  in  which  it  seemed  necessary  to  ask 
for  permission  to  copy,  such  permission  was  readily  and 
kindly  granted.  My  sister,  Miss  Alice  Gardner,  has  kindly 
supplied  the  index. 

PERCY  GARDNER. 

Oxford, 

September,  1913. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  I 

The  Grammar  of  Greek  Art  ........ 

Greek  art  a special  language : it  has  an  accidence  and  a syntax 
or  philosophy,  1.  The  subject  not  a search  into  origins,  but  into 
character  and  development,  3.  These  specifically  Greek,  whether 
derived  from  Minoan  or  Oriental  elements,  4.  Parallel  to  Greek 
literature,  6.  Sources  of  our  knowledge ; ancient  writers,  inscrip- 
tions, and  especially  extant  monuments,  8.  Greek  original  statues 
and  copies,  10.  Scarcity  of  paintings,  11.  Coins  and  gems,  ll. 

CHAPTER  II 

Ancient  Critics  on  Art 

Socrates  as  reported  in  Memorabilia  : interviews  with  Parrhasius 
and  Cleiton,  13.  Views  of  Plato,  16.  Aristotle  on  plastic  art,  17. 
Phrases  in  Aristotle’s  Poetics , symmetry,  rhythm,  ethos,  pathos, 
20.  Later  writers,  Pasi teles,  26  ; Varro,  Pliny,  Cicero,  27  ; Pausa- 
nias,  28 ; Lucian,  30. 


CHAPTER  III 

The  Greek  Temple 

Influence  of  country  and  race,  33.  Purpose  of  the  temple,  35. 
Question  of  proportions,  38.  Entasis,  39.  Rationality  of  plan,  40. 
Decoration  confined  to  otiose  parts,  41.  Its  simplicity,  44.  False 
departures  in  decoration,  44.  Colouring,  47.  Rhetorical  tendency, 
48.  Satisfaction  to  religious  needs,  49. 

CHAPTER  IV 

The  House  and  the  Tomb  ......... 

Secular  buildings,  51.  Walls  and  theatres,  52.  Dwelling  houses, 
53.  The  tomb  : similarity  to  temple,  53.  Finds  at  Mycenae,  56. 
Sepulchral  sculpture,  57.  Spartan  class,  57.  North  Greek  horse- 


CONTENTS 


viii 


PAGE 

man  class,  59.  Archaic  tombs  at  Athens,  60.  Growing  splendour 
in  fifth  and  fourth  centuries,  62.  Demetrius  Phalereus,  62.  The 
stele  and  the  temple-tomb,  63.  Family  groups,  65.  The  oil  flask 
and  the  water  pot,  67.  Painted  scenes,  68.  Comparison  with  lit- 
erature, 69 ; and  with  modern  cemeteries,  70. 


CHAPTER  Y 

Formation  of  Artistic  Types 72 

Only  decorative  elements  borrowed  by  Greeks,  72.  Causes  of 
excellence  of  Greek  art,  74;  athletic  habits,  75;  the  accumulation 
of  beauty,  79 ; synthesis  of  beauties,  80.  Value  of  appreciation  of 
beauty,  80. 


CHAPTER  VI 

The  Types  of  the  Gods  83 

Relation  of  religions  to  art,  83.  Various  strains  in^Greek  reli- 
gion, 84.  Naturalist  origins  of  religion,  86.  Cooperation  of  the 
artists,  86.  Relation  of  deities  to  cities,  87.  National  elements, 

88.  Formation  of  artistic  pantheon,  89.  Symbolic  contrasted  with 
anthropomorphic  art,  90.  Incorporation  of  attributes  in  type,  92. 

Who  made  the  types  of  deities  ? 95.  Heroes  in  art,  95. 


CHAPTER  VII 

Frontality  in  Greek  Art  .98 

Did  painting  precede  sculpture  ? 98.  Search  into  origins  and 
search  into  character,  98.  Lange’s  principle  of  frontality  in  early 
art,  99.  Two-plane  scheme  of  representation,  102.  Basis  of  law 
of  frontality,  104.  Humanist  and  subjective  character  of  art,  107. 
Mistakes  through  not  recognizing  this,  108. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

Sculpture  : Material,  Space  and  Colouring  .....  110 

Relations  to  material,  110.  Sculpture  in  wood,  110.  Sculpture 
in  bronze,  111.  Sculpture  in  marble,  113.  Decorative  and  sub- 
stantive art,  114.  The  temple,  117.  The  pediment,  118.  The 
metope,  124.  The  frieze,  125.  Isocephalism,  129.  Colouring  of 
sculpture,  130. 


CONTENTS 


IX 


CHAPTER  IX 

PAGE 

The  Progress  of  Sculpture 134 

It  was  man  that  especially  interested  the  Greeks,  134.  Im- 
provements in  technique,  135.  Line  of  attainment,  138.  Render- 
ing of  head,  138.  Great  change  in  the  third  century  : study  of 
anatomy,  143. 

CHAPTER  X 

Dress  and  Drapery 147 

Is  the  dress  of  sculpture  that  actually  worn  ? 147.  Adherence  to 
nature,  148.  Ionic  dress,  149.  Doric  dress,  152.  Complication  of 
later  dress,  158.  Artistic  use  of  dress,  160.  Dress  becomes  dra- 
pery, 164. 

CHAPTER  XI 

Portrait  Sculpture  ..........  165 

Immense  number  of  Greek  portraits,  165.  Difficulty  of  the  sub- 
ject, 166.  Comparison  with  Plutarch’s  Lives , 168.  Archaic  age, 

169.  Fifth  century  portraits,  170.  Ideal  element,  171.  Fourth 
century  idealism,  175.  Portraits  of  women,  177.  Change  in  third 
century,  178. 

CHAPTER  XII 

Greek  Painting 181 

Scantiness  of  materials : frescoes  and  vases,  181.  Pliny  on 
painting,  182.  Painting  in  the  later  sixth  century,  184.  Period 
of  Polygnotus,  186.  His  perspective,  187.  His  method  of  allusion, 

- 188.  Relations  of  vase-painting  to  frescoes,  191.  Colours  of  Polyg- 
notus, 203.  Later  masters,  203.  Existing  remains,  204.  Painting 
precedes  sculpture,  209. 

CHAPTER  XIII 

Classes  of  Vases  . 211 

Minoan  age,  211.  Geometric  style,  212.  Early  black-figured, 

213.  Later  black-figured,  214.  Red-figured,  215.  White-ground 
vases,  217.  Red-figured,  late,  218.  Forms,  218. 

CHAPTER  XIV 

Vases  : Space,  Balance,  Perspective  . . ...  221 

Vases  as  wholes,  221.  Conditions  of  space,  222.  The  horror 
vacui , 223.  Lowy’s  rules  in  archaic  drawing,  225.  Balance  and 


X 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 

symmetry,  226.  Relation  of  designs  to  forms  of  vases,  228.  Bal- 
ance in  schemes,  231.  Relation  of  designs  on  a vase  one  to  an- 
other, 232.  Perspective,  235. 


CHAPTER  XV 


Vases  : Artistic  Tradition  ........  239 

Use  of  fixed  schemes,  239.  Parallel  to  Homeric  phrases,  242. 
Names  added  in  schemes,  243.  Embodiment  of  myths  in  art,  245. 
Chorus  scheme,  248.  Messenger  scheme,  249.  History  of  the  rep- 
resentations of  the  mission  of  Triptolemus,  251.  Contamination, 

255.  Locality,  258.  Continuous  narration,  259.  Representations 
of  daily  life,  261. 


CHAPTER  XYI 

Literature  and  Painting  : the  Epic  ......  263 

Contrast  with  modern  illustration,  263.  Art  and  myth  run 
parallel,  265.  Influence  of  Homer  on  myth,  266.  Influence  of 
literature  on  choice  of  subject,  258 ; on  variation  of  story,  269  ; 
on  special  treatment,  269.  Homeric  subjects  : the  abduction  of 
Briseis,  271 ; the  combat  of  Diomedes  and  Aeneas,  275  ; the  horses 
of  Rhesus,  276;  Odysseus  and  the  Cyclops,  279;  the  Sirens,  281. 
Dionysus  and  the  Pirates,  283. 


CHAPTER  XYII 

Literature  and  Painting  continued  : Lyric  and  Dramatic 

Poetry  284 

Lyric  poetry  and  art,  284.  Tragedy  : subjects,  286 ; manner 
of  treatment,  286.  No  direct  influence  of  the  stage,  288.  Yases 
of  lower  Italy  and  the  Euripidean  stage,  290.  Wall-paintings  of 
Pompeii,  293.  Roman  sarcophagi,  295. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

The  Art-history  of  a Myth  : the  Judgment  of  Paris  . . . 297 

Early  period  : literature  of  the  myth,  298.  Early  vases,  298. 

Vases  of  the  great  painters,  300.  Period  after  b.c.  450  : literature, 

302.  Vase-paintings,  304.  Italian  vases,  307.  Pompeian  paint- 
ings, 308.  Independent  course  taken  by  art,  309. 


CONTENTS 


xi 


CHAPTER  XIX 

PAGE 

Art  in  Relation  to  History  ........  310 

Representations  of  actual  events  in  art,  310.  Ideal  representa- 
tion of  history  : the  Parthenon,  313.  Dedications  at  Delphi,  320. 
Yase-pain tings,  321. 


CHAPTER  XX 

Coins  in  Relation  to  History 324 

Historic  character  of  coins,  324.  Methods  of  connecting  coins 
with  history,  327.  Coins  of  fixed  date,  328.  The  psychology  of 
coins,  331.  Reproduction  of  works  of  sculpture,  333. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

Naturalism  and  Idealism  in  Greek  Art  ......  335 

Senses  and  intellect  in  Greek  art,  335.  Realism  and  idealism, 

336.  The  Ionian  spirit,  337.  Humanism  in  Attic  art,  337.  Paint- 
ing and  sculpture  not  merely  mimetic,  339.  The  study  of  nature, 

340.  Human  interpretation,  341.  Impressionism,  342.  Greek  art 
both  humanist  and  ideal,  343.  Social  idealism,  345.  Hay  don  on 
the  sculpture  of  the  Parthenon,  347. 

INDEX 349 


i 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

NUMBER  PAGE 

1.  Plan  of  the  Parthenon 36 

Dorpfeld  in  Athen.  Mittheil , 1881,  pi.  XII. 

2.  Lines  of  basis  of  Parthenon 40 

E.  A.  Gardner,  Ancient  Athens , p.  270. 

3.  Anatomy  of  the  Parthenon 42 

Br.  Mus.  Cat.  Sculpture , pi.  IV. 

4.  Doric,  Ionic,  and  Corinthian  columns  ......  46 

Uhde,  Ar  chit  ektur for  men. 

a.  Temple  at  Selinus.  b.  Erechtheum.  c.  Lysicrates  monument. 

5.  Spartan  hero  and  wife 58 

P.  Gardner,  Sculptured  Tombs  of  Hellas , pi.  II. 

6.  Horseman  relief : British  Museum  . ......  59 

Ibid.  p.  96. 

7.  Beclining  hero,  with  worshipper  (Athens) 60 

Erom  a cast. 

8.  Tombstone  : Tynnias  seated  (Athens) 64 

P.  Gardner,  Sculptured  Tombs , pi.  III. 

9.  Tombstone : family  group  (Athens) 65 

Ibid.  pi.  XXIII. 

10.  Water-vessel  on  tombstone  (Athens) 67 

Ibid.  pi.  IV. 

11.  Artemis:  relief  from  Olympia 90 

From  a cast. 

12.  Artemis : coin  of  Ephesus 91 

Erom  a cast. 

13.  Artemis  of  Versailles  . 93 

14.  Apollo  and  Artemis  : vase  at  Berlin  ......  96 

Wiener  Vorlegebl .,  1888,  pi.  VIII. 

15.  Unfinished  statue  : Athens 101 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  XI.,  p.  130. 

16.  Horse  : Vase  at  Boulogne 102 

Lowy,  Naturwiedergabe,  p.  44. 

17.  Metope  of  Selinus  .........  103 

18.  Nike  of  Delos,  restored  104 

19.  Discobolus  of  Myron,  restored 105 

Munich  reconstruction, 
xiii 


XIV 


LIST  or  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NUMBER  PAGE 

20.  Female  figure,  Olympia 112 

From  a cast. 

21.  Figure  from  Polledrara  : British  Museum 112 

22.  Kylix  at  Berlin * 113 

Gerhard,  Coupes  Grecques  et  Etrusques , XII. 

23.  Bronze  reliefs  : Ashmolean  Museum 116 

24  a.  Restoration  of  E.  Pediment,  Olympia 120 

Treu,  Jahrbuch  des  arch.  Inst.,  1888. 

24  b.  Restoration  of  W.  Pediment,  Olympia 120 

Treu,  Jahrbuch , 1888. 

25.  Diagram  of  pediment 121 

26.  Corners  of  E.  Pediment,  Parthenon 123 

27.  Two  metopes,  Olympia  .........  126 

Restorations  by  G.  Treu. 

28.  From  the  Mausoleum  frieze 128 

29.  Argive  Diadumenus  : British  Museum 136 

30.  Attic  Diadumenus  : British  Museum 137 

31.  Head  of  Doryphorus  : Naples . . . 139 

32.  Head  of  Hermes  of  Praxiteles 140 

33.  Diagrams  of  male  and  female  eye 141 

Cecil  Smith  in  Cat.  Vases , III.,  4. 

34.  Stele  from  Lamprika,  Athens 145 

35.  Female  figure  by  Antenor  : Athens  151 

Restored  by  Studniczka,  Jahrbuch  des  arch.  Inst.,  II.,  141. 

36.  Diagram  of  the  Doric  chiton 153 

Gardner  and  Jevons,  Manual  of  Greek  Antiquities,  p.  53. 

37.  Bronze  girl  from  Herculaneum 154 

38.  Diagram  of  himation  .........  156 

Gardner  and  Jevons,  Manual,  p.  55. 

39.  Male  figure  wearing  himation  : amphora 157 

Ashmolean  Museum,  Cat.,  fig.  25. 

40.  Dress  of  girls  : Attic  krater 158 

Furtwangler  and  Reichhold,  Griechische  Vasenmalerei , pi.  17 . 

41.  Aphrodite  of  Fr^jus  : Louvre 162 

42.  Athena  of  Myron  : Frankfort 162 

43.  Head  and  hand  holding  discus  : Athens 169 

44.  Portrait  of  Pericles  : British  Museum ,170 

45.  Head  of  Euripides 173 

46.  Head  of  Antisthenes : Vatican 174 

47.  Alexander  as  a youth  : Munich 176 

48.  Demosthenes : Vatican  ........  179 

49.  Negro,  from  a vase,  Ashmolean  Museum 184 

50.  Warrior  on  a tablet  from  Athens 185 

Epliemeris,  1887,  pi.  VI. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xv 

NUMBER  PAGE 

51  a.  The  Argonauts  : Vase  from  Orvieto 190 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud .,  X.,  p.  118. 

51  b.  The  Niobids  : Yase  from  Orvieto . 191 

Ibid. 

52.  Theseus  and  Poseidon : Yase  at  Bologna 195 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  XVIII.,  p.  277. 

53.  Odysseus  shooting  the  Suitors  : Yase  from  Corneto  . . . 197 

Mon.  dell.  Inst.,  IX.,  53. 

54  a.  Menelaus  and  Helen  : Attic  vase 199 

Lowy,  Wiener  Studien,  1912,  p.  284. 

54  5.  Menelaus  and  Helen : Metopes  of  Parthenon  ....  200 

Ibid. 

55.  Attic  worthies  : Yase  from  Corneto 201 

Wiener  Vorlegebl.,  A.  5. 

56.  Ivory  tablet  from  the  Crimea 204 

Antiq.  du  Bosphore  Cim.,  pi.  79. 

57.  Battle  of  Issus  : Pompeian  Mosaic 208 

58.  Geometric  vase  in  Ashmolean  Museum 212 

Catalogue,  p.  2. 

59.  Archaic  pyxis  : British  Museum 213 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  V.,  p.  176. 

60.  White  lekythos  from  Athens  : Ashmolean  Museum  . . . 217 

Catalogue,  p.  21. 

61.  Forms  of  Greek  vases 219 

62.  Attic  kylix  : Ashmolean  Museum 219 

Catalogue,  p.  15. 

63.  Amphora  : Ashmolean  Museum 220 

Catalogue,  p.  25. 

64.  Plate  from  Rhodes  223 

Musee  Napoleon  III,  pi.  III. 

65.  Spartan  Yase  224 

Arch.  Zeitung,  1882;  pi.  XII.,  2. 

66.  Kylix  by  Hiero : Berlin 225 

Wiener  Vorlegebl.,  A.  4. 

67.  Bellerophon  : Melian  terra-cotta 228 

Millingen,  Anc.  lined.  Mon.,  II.,  pi.  3. 

68.  Nolan  Amphora  : Ashmolean  Museum 229 

Catalogue,  p.  24. 

69.  Attic  lekythos  : Ashmolean  Museum 229 

Catalogue,  p.  33. 

70.  Youth  standing  : Amphora.  Ashmolean  Museum  . . . 230 

Catalogue,  p.  24. 

71.  Female  figure  : Kylix.  Ashmolean  Museum 231 

Catalogue,  p.  29. 


XVI 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NVMBER  PAGE 

72.  Satyr:  Kylix  in  British  Museum 231 

Catalogue  III.,  pi.  VI. 

73.  Two  figures : Kylix.  British  Museum 232 

Catalogue  III.,  pi.  VI. 

74.  Amphora  in  Ashmolean  Museum 232 

Catalogue,  p.  6. 

75.  Amphora  at  Munich 233 

Lau,  Die  griech.  Vasen.,  pi.  XXIV. 

76.  Amphora  in  Ashmoleaii  Museum  . . . . . . 233 

Catalogue,  p.  11. 

77.  Eos  and  Tithonus  : Vase  in  Ashmolean  Museum  ....  234 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  XIII.,  p.  137. 

78.  Seizure  of  Thetis  : Vase  in  the  British  Museum  ....  236 

From  Rhodes.  From  a drawing. 

79.  Herakles  and  lion  : Vase  in  the  British  Museum  ....  240 

Catalogue  II.,  p.  13. 

80.  Herakles  and  Triton.  British  Museum 241 

Ibid.,  p.  21.  ' 

81.  Herakles  with  boar.  British  Museum 242 

Ibid.,  p.  15. 

82.  Theseus  and  the  Minotaur  : Vase  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum  . 243 

Catalogue,  p.  29. 

83.  Achilles  arming  : plate  at  Athens 247 

Heydemarm,  Griech.  Vasenb.,  pi.  VI. 

84  a.  Seizure  of  Thetis  : Kylix  by  Hiero 248 

Wiener  Vorlegebl .,  A.  1. 

84  b.  Reverse  of  the  same  vase 249 

85.  Triptolemus  : Vase  in  Vatican 251 

Overbeck,  Kunstmytli.,  pi.  XV.,  6. 

86.  Triptolemus : Vase  by  Hiero 252 

Ibid.,  fig.  22  a. 

87.  Triptolemus  : red-figured  vase  . 253 

Ibid.,  fig.  31. 

88.  Triptolemus : Vase  of  Tarentum  254 

Ibid.,  pi.  XVI.,  13. 

89.  Sleep  and  death  : Vase  of  Euphronius 256 

Klein,  Euphronios,  p.  272. 

90.  Oedipus  and  Sphinx : Kylix 257 

Hart  wig,  Meisterschalen , pi.  73. 

91.  Sunrise:  Vase  in  British  Museum • 260 

Catalogue  III.,  p.  284. 

92.  Abduction  of  Briseis  : Vase  of  Hiero 270 

Mon.  d.  Inst.,  VI.,  19. 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS  xvii 

NUMBER  PAGE 

93.  Abduction  of  Briseis  : Vase  in  British  Museum  ....  274 

Hartwig,  Meisterschalen , pi.  41. 

94.  Combat  of  Diomedes  and  Aeneas  : Vase  in  British  Museum  . 275 

Journal  of  Philology , XII.,  p.  215. 

95.  The  horses  of  Rhesus  : Vase  at  Berlin  ......  277 

Gerhard,  Coupes  de  Berlin , pi.  K. 

96.  The  horses  of  Rhesus 278 

Wiener  Vorlegebl.,  C.,  3. 

97.  Odysseus  and  the  Cyclops  : Attic  Yase 280 

Gazette  Archeol .,  1887,  pi.  I. 

98.  Odysseus  and  the  Sirens  : Yase  in  British  Museum  . . . 282 

Mon.  d.  Inst .,  I.,  8. 

99.  Orestes  at  Delphi:  Yase  at  St.  Petersburg 291 

Comptes  rendus , 1863,  pi.  YI. 

100.  Orestes  in  Tauris  : Yase  of  Ruvo 294 

Mon.  d.  Inst.,  VIII.,  22. 

101.  Judgment  of  Paris  : Archaic  vase 299 

Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  pi.  LXX. 

102.  Judgment  of  Paris : Yase  of  Hiero  . . . . . .301 

Wiener  Vorlegebl.,  A.  5. 

103.  Judgment  of  Paris : Deities  in  ohariots 302 

Dumont,  Vases  Peints,  pi.  X. 

104.  Judgment  of  Paris:  Yase  at  Berlin 303 

Catalogue,  2536. 

105.  Judgment  of  Paris  : Goddesses  preparing 305 

Mon.  d.  Inst.,  IV.,  18. 

106.  Judgment  of  Paris  : order  broken  up 306 

Coll.  Sabouroff,  pi.  61. 

107.  Sarcophagus  from  Sidon 312 

Hamdy  and  Reinach,  Necropole  royale  a Sidon,  pi.  25. 

108.  The  Persians  : Yase  of  Tarentum • 322 

Mon.  d.  Inst.,  IX.,  51. 

109.  Damareteion  coin 329 

110.  Dion  coin 329 

111.  Coin  of  Samos 330 

112.  Coin  of  Ephesus 330 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAPTER  I 

THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 

Just  as  the  poetry  and  prose  of  the  Greeks  is  expressed  in  a 
particular  language,  the  words  and  the  grammar  of  which  must 
be  studied  by  those  who  would  understand  the  literature,  so 
works  of  Greek  painting  and  sculpture  also  are  composed  in 
what  may  be  called  a particular  artistic  language.1  The  words 
of  that  language  are  the  strokes  of  the  brush  and  the  chisel; 
but  these  are  put  together  in  order  to  embody  Greek  ideas  in 
ways  which  are  distinctive  and  not  like  those  adopted  by  any 
other  people ; certainly  unlike  those  of  modern  art.  The  object 
of  the  present  work  is  to  set  forth,  as  simply  and  directly  as 
possible,  what  these  ways  are ; to  define,  in  fact,  the  principles 
of  Greek  art,  and  so  render  more  intelligible  the  works  of  paint- 
ing and  sculpture  which  have  come  down  to  us  from  Hellenic 
antiquity. 

Although  the  problem  before  us  is  one  which  can  only  be 
solved  by  a close  and  long-continued  examination  of  the  monu- 
ments of  Greek  art,  yet  it  is  at  bottom  psychological.  We  have 
to  determine  the  laws  according  to  which  the  mind,  the  taste, 
the  hand,  of  the  artist  worked.  We  are  speaking  of  a general- 
ized or  ideal  process.  It  will  not,  of  course,  be  supposed  that 
a sculptor  or  painter,  before  he  set  about  his  work,  consciously 
or  deliberately  thought  out  the  lines  on  which  he  should  pro- 

1 Welcker  calls  it  a Zeichensprache,  Alte  Derikmaler , III,  p.  xii. 

B 1 


2 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ceed.  He  went  by  the  traditions  of  the  craft,  the  customs  of  a 
school.  But  his  unconscious  process  can  be  brought  out  in 
regular  and  methodical  form ; and  this  is  what  I propose  to 
do.  In  precisely  the  same  way  those  who  have  never  learned 
grammar  may  speak  their  own  language  grammatically  enough. 
Unconsciously  they  follow  laws  of  usage  which  have  been  laid 
down  by  the  practice  of  generations.  The  grammarian  can 
discover  and  set  forth  those  laws,  the  statement  of  which, 
though  less  necessary  to  those  who  speak  their  mother  tongue,  • 
is  quite  indispensable  to  those  who  have  to  learn  the  language 
as  one  foreign  to  them. 

To  the  accidence  of  a language  we  may  compare  the  simple 
laws  of  relation  to  material,  of  relation  to  space,  of  balance 
and  proportion,  which  are  manifested  in  the  work  of  a Greek 
artist.  To  the  syntax  of  a language  we  may  compare  the  re- 
lation of  scene  to  scene,  of  picture  to  myth  and  to  literature, 
of  sculpture  and  coin  to  history.  And  art  as  a whole  we  may 
place  beside  the  poetry  and  philosophy  of  Greece  as  a parallel 
manifestation  of  the  genius  of  the  race,  in  some  directions  an 
even  clearer  and  more  illuminating  manifestation. 

We  start  from  the  purpose  of  the  Greek  artist  to  produce  a 
statue,  or  to  paint  a scene  of  Greek  mythology.  Whence  this 
purpose  came,  we  cannot  always  see.  It  may  have  come,  at  the 
lowest,  from  a commercial  demand,  or  from  desire  to  exercise 
talent,  or  from  a wish  to  honour  the  gods.  This  purpose  works 
from  within  outward,  and  meets  with  controlling  conditions, 
according  to  which  its  outward  working  is  directed,  conditions 
partly  belonging  to  the  materials  employed,  partly  to  the  artis- 
tic customs  and  traditions  of  the  age,  partly  to  the  personality 
of  the  artist  himself,  and  partly  to  the  city  or  the  race  to  which 
he  belongs. 

In  its  higher  branches  grammar  touches  psychology,  and  I 
shall  have  to  speak  of  the  psychology  and  the  philosophy  of 
art.  Certainly  I do  not  wish  to  limit  myself  to  such  formal 


I 


THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 


3 


and  superficial  rules  as  make  up  the  bulk  of  our  grammars. 
In  fact,  some  parts  of  the  present  work  may  be  said  to  lie  be- 
tween a psychology  and  a grammar.  The  reason  of  this  is  not 
far-  to  seek ; and  I must  briefly  set  it  forth. 

If  the  creations  of  the  Greek  painter  and  sculptor  had  come 
down  to  us  in  full  abundance  and  in  their  original  beauty,  the 
philosophy  and  the  grammar  of  the  subject  would  have  lain 
apart,  the  first  being  primarily  illustrated  from  those  great 
works  of  art  which  fully  embody  the  Greek  character,  the  second 
from  simple  and  commonplace  efforts  of  the  artists.  But  what 
we  possess  is  but  a remnant  of  the  ancient  splendour.  In  the 
case  of  architecture  and  sculpture,  enough  remains  to  show  us 
what  the  Greeks  could  do : in  the  case  of  painting  we  have 
only  work  of  a comparatively  poor  or  hasty  character.  It  is 
therefore  natural  in  dealing  with  sculpture  to  proceed  in  a 
more  philosophical  way,  and  in  dealing  with  painting,  to  pro- 
ceed on  the  humbler  lines  of  grammar.  Perhaps  by  following 
this  course  I have  somewhat  injured  the  unity  of  this  work; 
but  it  does  not  appear  that  much  would  have  been  gained  if  I 
had  divided  it  in  two.  The  reader  must  always  remember  that 
in  criticising  sculpture  we  are  at  a higher  level  than  in  criticis- 
ing vase-painting,  and  he  must  not  expect  the  impossible. 

The  study  of  an  evolution  among  surrounding  and  limiting 
conditions  is  the  complement,  and  in  many  ways  the  opposite, 
to  that  search  for  origins  which  in  our  Darwinian  age  attracts 
so  much  intelligence.  Numberless  investigators  are  now  occu- 
pied in  tracing  all  the  ways  of  civilization  to  their  origins,  or 
at  least  to  the  earliest  form  of  them  which  can  be  discovered. 
This  search  is,  of  course,  of  the  greatest  value,  quite  essential 
to  all  scientific  history,  and  throwing  rays  of  light  over  some 
of  the  darkest  fields.  Without  reaching  the  origin  of  a cus- 
tom in  art,  in  religion,  in  institutions,  we  can  never  be  sure 
that  we  have  rightly  apprehended  it.  But  at  the  same  time  it 


4 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


is  necessary  to  guard  oneself  against  a prevalent  delusion, 
the  fancy  that  when  the  origin  of  any  phase  of  human  life 
is  discovered,  that  phase  is  explained  and  understood.  It  is 
a great  thing  to  reach  the  railway  station  from  which  one  sets 
out  on  a journey,  but  starting  from  that  station  one  may  go 
many  ways  and  travel  with  various  purposes.  What  is  really 
most  important  and  interesting  in  the  civilization  of  a race  is 
not  the  foundations,  which  are  probably  very  much  like  those 
whence  other  races  make  their  start,  but  what  the  race  adds  of 
its  own,  the  way  in  which  the  national  ideas  are  embodied. 
What  is  most  interesting  in  the  English  character  is  that  in 
which  they  differ  from  other  peoples.  That  which  is  really 
important  in  Jewish  or  in  Greek  religion  is  not  the  mere  myth 
which  belongs  to  all  peoples  at  a certain  stage  of  civilization, 
nor  the  primitive  beliefs  in  ghosts  and  agricultural  super- 
stitions, but  what  the  Jews  and  the  Greeks  respectively  add  to 
the  common  stock  of  religion,  as  they  emerge  into  a higher 
civilization. 

In  the  case  of  Greek  art  also  we  may  say  that  it  is  interesting 
in  proportion  as  it  is  really  Greek.  Of  late  years  there  has 
been  carried  on  an  unwearied  search  into  the  products  of  pre- 
historic Greece,  the  civilization  of  the  peoples  now  called 
Minoan  and  Mycenaean.  The  Homeric  enthusiasm  of  Schlie- 
mann  first  led  to  the  discovery  at  Ilium,  Mycenae  and  Tiryns 
of  walls,  palaces  and  graves,  belonging  to  the  peoples  who  lived 
in  Greece  long  before  Greece  emerges  into  the  light  of  history. 
To  the  patience  and  the  science  of  two  admirable  archaeologists, 
Dr.  Dorpfeld  and  Sir  Arthur  Evans,  we  owe  both  a vast  exten- 
sion of  the  field  of  prehistoric  exploration,  and  a reasoned 
classification  of  the  remains  discovered  under  periods.  We 
have  acquired  a surprising  amount  of  knowledge  as  to  the 
habits,  the  architecture,  the  religion  and  the  art  of  the  peoples 
of  the  eastern  Mediterranean  in  the  second  and  even  the  third 
thousand  years  before  the  Christian  era.  It  has  become  a 


I 


THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 


5 


custom  to  place  at  the  beginning  of  works  dealing  with  Greek 
history  and  archaeology  an  account  of  the  discoveries  of  Schlie- 
mann,  Evans  and  others.  And  an  attempt  is  often  made  to 
show  Greek  civilization  as  a continuous  development  from  the 
neolithic  age  to  the  Roman  period.  While  I am  as  grateful 
as  any  one  to  the  great  explorers  already  mentioned,  I cannot 
altogether  accept  the  corollaries  from  their  discoveries  often 
put  forward.  Sir  A.  Evans  has  recently  definitely  stated  his 
opinion  that  the  people  of  the  Minoan  and  Mycenaean  ages 
were  not  of  Greek  stock.1  In  truth,  between  the  age  of  the 
palaces  of  Cnossus  and  Mycenae  and  the  childhood  of  Greek 
culture,  there  intervened  a long  period  of  barbarism,  after  the 
rude  Greek  tribes  had  poured  in  from  the  north  and  over- 
turned the  cities  of  the  wealthy  Minoan  rulers.  It  is  but  in 
the  eighth  century  b.c.,  that  we  begin  to  discern  the  elements 
of  a new  civilization  emerging.  And  as  it  emerges,  we  see  more 
and  more  clearly  that  it  is  of  a character  strikingly  different 
from  that  which  had  perished  three  hundred  years  earlier.  I 
would  not,  of  course,  deny  that  something  of  the  skill  of  hand 
and  eye  which  had  been  trained  in  the  Mycenaean  workshops 
may  have  survived ; for  the  old  race  was  not  exterminated,  but 
only  subjugated.  But  the  elements  out  of  which  Greek  art 
arose  were  taken  rather  from  the  Phoenicians  and  the  peoples 
of  Western  Asia  than  from  the  Mycenaeans.  This  I have 
always  maintained ; and  it  has  been  recently  enforced  with 
great  learning  and  energy  by  Dr.  Poulsen.2  In  any  case  the 
Greeks  never  borrowed  from  other  peoples  anything  but  decora- 
tive forms  and  simple  principles  of  technique.  The  principles 
of  their  art  were  all  their  own.  And  those  principles  are  in 
complete  contrast  with  those  of  Minoan  and  Mycenaean  art, 
an  art  which  was  very  skilful  in  the  use  of  decorative  forms,  and 

1 Journ.  Hell.  Stud.  1912,  p.  278.  This  view  is  confirmed  by  anthropological 
evidence  derived  from  the  forms  of  skulls. 

2 Poulsen,  Fruhgriechische  Kunst  und  Orient.  Compare  Gardner,  New 
Chapters  in  Greek  History , 1892,  p.  126. 


6 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


is  sometimes  full  of  a pleasing  naturalism,  especially  in  the 
rendering  of  some  animal  forms,  but  is  wholly  without  those 
higher  qualities  of  which  in  later  pages  I shall  have  to  speak 
as  distinguishing  the  art  of  Greece  alike  from  that  of  ancient 
and  that  of  modern  peoples. 

One  must  not,  however,  exaggerate.  It  is  the  cities  of 
Greece  Proper  in  which  one  finds  the  vogue  of  that  intensely 
Greek  spirit  of  which  Greek  art  is  the  outcome.  In  the  earliest 
pottery  of  Ionia  there  is  less  rigidity  and  love  of  balance,  more 
of  naturalism  and  freedom  of  design,  than  in  the  pottery  of 
Corinth  or  Athens  or  Chalcis.  If  we  kneiv  more  about  the  still 
earlier  painting  of  Ionia,  we  might  perhaps-  find  in  it  a certain 
amount  of  Mycenaean  survival.  Possibly  future  excavations 
on  the  coast  of  Asia  Minor  may  have  surprises  in  store  for  us. 
But  if  we  compare,  as  a whole,  the  art  of  Cnossus  and  Mycenae 
with  that  of  Hellas,  the  resemblances  are  so  slight  and  the  con- 
trast so  great  as  to  indicate  an  utterly  different  national  tendency. 
The  Greeks  are  in  many  things  our  spiritual  ancestors;  the 
Mvcenaeans  scarcely  lie  in  the  direct  line  of  our  spiritual  ances- 
try. Compare  the  parallel  case  of  literature.  The  investi- 
gation of  the  forms  of  letters  in  the  earliest  alphabets  has  its 
value,  and  the  primitive  inscriptions  cut  in  terra-cotta  and  on 
stone  by  the  early  peoples  of  Asia  Minor  and  the  Aegean  are 
not  without  importance;  but  the  interest  of  such  things  pales 
beside  that  of  the  great  literature  which  has  inspired  so  much 
of  modern  history  and  poetry  and  philosophy.  Greek  art  has 
not,  in  northern  Europe,  had  the  same  vogue  as  Greek  litera- 
ture ; yet  at  some  periods,  and  in  some  lines  of  civilization, 
it  has  been  of  untold  value,  throwing  into  the  shade  mere 
questions  of  origin. 

It  is  unnecessary  that  I should  try  to  emphasize  the  value 
of  Greek  literature.  The  value  of  Greek  art  is  less  generally 
recognized.  Of  course  to  English  people  ancient  literature 
must  always  be  of  far  greater  interest  and  value  than  ancient 


I 


THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 


7 


art,  for  the  simple  reason  that  they  are  a literary  nation,  but  not 
an  artistic  nation.  Yet  we  have  our  artists,  and  are  not  unaf- 
fected by  the  growing  importance  of  art  in  the  modern  world. 
It  is  because  of  our  neglect  and  misunderstanding  of  ancient 
art,  among  other  causes,  that  our  artists  are,  as  a rule,  so 
poorly  trained,  and  have  to  go  to  Paris  and  Rome  to  learn  their 
business.  General  education  has  also  suffered  from  the  same 
cause.  We  have  been  one-sided.  Every  one  who  has  studied 
both  the  literature  and  the  art  of  Greece  must  have  discovered 
that  the  principles  of  both  are  exactly  alike,  that  the  Greek 
drama  and  the  Greek  temple,  for  example,  are  constructed 
on  parallel  lines,  and  equally  embody  the  aesthetic  ideas  of 
the  race.  These  general  remarks  will,  it  is  hoped,  receive 
constant  enforcement  and  illustration  in  the  course  of  the 
following  pages. 

It  is  of  course  possible  to  schematize  too  much,  to  lay  down  in 
too  dogmatic  a fashion  in  what  way  the  Greek  spirit  acts  under 
certain  conditions.  Those  conditions  vary  from  period  to  period 
and  from  school  to  school.  It  is  only  a full  and  careful  con- 
secutive study  of  the  history  of  ancient  art  which  can  give  one 
the  right  to  generalize.  But  generalization,  though  difficult, 
is  possible ; and  the  student  who  is  bewildered  with  the  number 
of  the  schools  and  artists  in  Greece,  who,  after  toiling  for  months 
and  years  at  certain  classes  of  statues  or  vases,  loses  sight  of 
the  relation  of  those  classes  to  the  main  stem  of  Greek  life, 
may  find  it  useful  and  profitable  to  turn  from  the  material  side 
of  ancient  monuments  to  their  formal  side,  to  look  on  them  not 
merely  as  productions  of  a certain  time  and  place,  made  in  a 
certain  material,  but  as  a visible  embodiment  of  mental  pro- 
cesses, as  the  result  of  the  outward  working  of  the  Greek  spirit 
on  the  world  around. 

A more  exact  exposition  of  the  way  in  which  the  Greek  genius 
worked  in  the  sphere  of  art  will  be  better  placed  at  the  end  than 
at  the  beginning  of  the  present  work.  It  would  be  useless  to 


8 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


expect  the  student  to  furnish  his  mind  with  principles  apart 
from  the  examples  in  which  the  principles  are  embodied.  Nor 
is  it  desirable  that  he  should  accept  those  principles  except 
after  a convincing  study  of  the  phenomena. 

In  the  present  place  it  will  be  more  satisfactory  to  give  some 
account  of  the  sources  whence  our  knowledge  of  Greek  art  is 
derived.  The  testimony  of  ancient  writers  I reserve  for  treat- 
ment in  the  next  chapter.  That  testimony,  however,  would 
avail  us  little  in  the  absence  of  the  monuments  themselves. 

A valuable  source  of  information  i$  to  be  found  in  Greek 
inscriptions.  It  was  the  custom  of  the  Greeks  to  record  upon 
marble  slabs,  not  only  their  laws,  treaties,  and  other  important 
documents  of  State,  but  also  lists  of  the  treasures  preserved  in 
the  temples,  the  financial  accounts  of  the  sculptural  decorations 
of  their  buildings,  and  the  like.  And  from  the  middle  of  the 
sixth  century  onwards  artists  inscribed  their  names  upon  the 
bases  of  statues,  which  were  dedicated  in  public  places.1 
Such  inscriptions  not  only  enable  us  to  identify  the  productions 
of  known  artists ; but  by  the  forms  of  the  letters  we  can  judge 
within  narrow  limits  of  the  dates  when  they  were  executed, 
while  the  find-spots  inform  us  where  each  artist  worked. 

The  great  task  of  modern  art-archaeology  is  to  compare 
with  literary  and  inscriptional  information  a third  source,  the 
actual  works  of  ancient  art,  so  far  as  they  are  extant.  At  the 
opening  of  modern  history,  the  works  of  art  in  Greece  had 
under  Byzantine  and  Turkish  rule  been  almost  completely 
destroyed,  unless  they  had  been  buried  under  the  soil.  In 
Italy  a few  monuments  such  as  the  Arch  of  Beneventum  and 
those  of  Rome,  the  columns  of  Trajan  and  Marcus  Aurelius,  a 
few  sarcophagi  and  the  like  were  still  to  be  seen ; and  we  may 
find  in  Italian  artists  of  all  periods  scanty  traces  of  their  influ- 
ence. At  the  time  of  the  Renaissance,  these  scattered  relics 
came  into  higher  honour ; and  researches  in  Italy,  the  Greek 


1 Locwy,  I nschriftcn  griechischer  Bildhauer. 


I 


THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 


9 


Islands,  and  elsewhere  began  to  furnish  materials  to  the  muse- 

* 

ums  of  ancient  art  which  were  soon  founded  in  the  great  cities 
of  Europe.  The  eighteenth  century  was  an  age  of  dilettantes, 
when  it  became  fashionable  for  young  men  of  wealth  to  travel 
in  Italy  and  beyond,  and  when  the  private  collections  of  which 
so  many  still  remain  in  the  great  country  houses  of  England 
were  formed.  With  the  beginning  of  the  nineteenth  century 
a new  era  in  the  study  of  ancient  art  was  opened  by  the  removal 
of  the  sculptures  of  the  Parthenon  from  Athens  to  London  by 
Lord  Elgin.  With  the  emancipation  of  Greece  more  systematic 
work  on  the  sites  of  ancient  civilization  began,  and  a constantly 
increasing  stream  of  monuments  poured  into  England,  France 
and  Germany,  from  Aegina  and  Phigaleia,  Lycia  and  Cyprus, 
Ephesus  and  Halicarnassus,  and  many  other  places. 

With  the  German  excavations  at  Olympia,  in  the  seventies 
of  the  last  century,  began  what  may  be  called  the  modern  his- 
tory of  excavation.  Germany  set  the  example,  since  everywhere 
followed,  of  making  complete  and  scientific  exploration  of  an 
ancient  site  with  a view,  not  to  the  acquiring  of  antiques,  but 
to  the  furtherance  of  the  knowledge  of  antiquity.  What  vast 
results  have  ensued  from  recent  excavations  in  Greece  and 
Asia  Minor,  Egypt  and  Babylonia,  most  people  know  in  some 
measure.1  At  present  I have  to  do  only  with  such  discoveries 
as  help  us  better  to  understand  Greek  art.  Such  understanding 
can  result  only  from  a combined  study  of  classical  writers  and 
extant  works  of  art.  The  writers  by  themselves,  had  all  the 
monuments  perished,  could  never  have  given  us  any  clear  or 
vivid  notion  of  the  artistic  triumphs  of  the  Greek  genius.  And 
the  monuments  by  themselves,  apart  from  classical  literature, 
though  they  might  have  roused  our  admiration  and  astonishment, 
would  have  remained  a labyrinth  without  a clue,  and  spoken 
to  eye  and  taste  rather  than  to  the  historic  sense  and  intellect. 

1 See  A.  Michaelis,  A Century  of  Archaeological  Discovery.  English  translation 
by  Miss  B.  Kahnweiler. 


10 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


The  sculpture  which  fills  the  galleries  devoted  to  ancient 
art  in  the  great  museums  of  Europe  consists  of  two  classes. 
First  we  have  original  works,  the  date  and  occasion  of  which  can 
usually  be  determined.  Of  sculpture  in  the  round  which  is 
the  actual  handiwork  of  known  artists  of  the  great  age  of  Greece, 
we  possess  comparatively  little,  at  least  little  which  can  be 
attributed  to  a definite  noted  author ; the  Hermes  of  Praxiteles 
stands  almost  alone  in  this  respect.  But  there  is  extant  an 
enormous  quantity  of  decorative  work  from  temples,  from 
tombs,  and  other  monuments,  of  which  we  can  determine 
the  date  and  the  artistic  school.  And  we  have  many  original 
statues  in  the  round  of  good  period  and  fine  execution  which 
are  certainly  by  good  artists,  though  we  can  in  only  a few 
cases  be  certain  who  they  are.  The  British  Museum  is  espe- 
cially rich  in  original  works  of  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries, 
possessing  the  sculptural  adornments  of  the  Parthenon,  the 
temple  at  Phigaleia,  and  the  Mausoleum,  and  many  fine  graves 
from  Lycia.  At  Munich  are  the  figures  from  the  pediments  of 
the  temple  at  Aegina;  at  Athens  is  a great  series  of  statues 
belonging  to  the  Acropolis  before  the  Persian  wars ; the  author 
of  one  at  least  of  these  dedicated  female  figures  is  known,  the 
Athenian  Antenor.  Berlin  possesses  a series  of  magnificent 
reliefs  of  a later  age  from  the  great  altar  at  Pergamon ; Constan- 
tinople, splendid  Greek  sarcophagi  of  the  fifth  and  fourth  cen- 
turies. 

But  the  bulk  of  Greek  originals  is  greatly  exceeded  by  that 
of  later  copies  -of  such  originals.  The  museums  of  Rome  in 
particular  are  thronged  with  hundreds  of  statues  from  the 
sites  of  Roman  villas,  which  are  of  very  various  degrees  of  merit. 
It  was  the  custom  of  wealthy  Romans  to  fill  their  houses  and 
grounds  with  works  which  were  more  or  less  close  imitations 
of  Greek  statues  of  bronze  or  marble.  These  have  been 
recovered  in  a constant  stream  since  the  Renaissance,  no  source 
having  been  more  prolific  than  the  villa  of  Hadrian  at  Tivoli. 


I 


THE  GRAMMAR  OF  GREEK  ART 


11 


In  the  study  of  these  copies,  and  in  drawing  inferences  from  them, 
there  is  necessary  an  extreme  caution,  which  has  not  always 
been  shown.  To  begin  with,  the  figures  are  almost  always 
found  in  a mutilated  condition,  and  the  Italian  restorers  of 
past  centuries  have  been  quite  reckless  in  putting  together 
fragments  which  had  no  original  connection,  and  in  inventing 
poses  and  attributes.  And  further,  even  when  the  figures  are 
complete,  or  rightly  restored,  we  have  no  sort  of  guarantee 
that  they  are  faithful  copies  of  Greek  originals;  sometimes 
they  are  compiled  from  several  figures,  perhaps  by  different 
artists.1  In  very  many  cases  they  were  made  by  masons  who 
worked  without  a conscience  for  uncritical  customers;  only 
occasionally  do  they  show  a fine  appreciation  of  the  originals 
which  they  were  set  to  copy,  and  which  they  often  only  knew 
at  second  or  third  hand. 

It  is  also  to  be  observed  that  the  decorative  reliefs  of  temples 
and  tombs,  even  when  belonging  to  a good  age,  and  executed 
under  the  direction  of  a great  master,  are  usually  the  work  of 
pupils  or  masons ; and  their  execution,  even  when  the  design 
and  the  character  of  the  reliefs  is  excellent,  is  often  marked  by 
carelessness  and  inattention.  The  Greeks  themselves  attached 
little  value  to  decorative  work.  Pausanias  describes  in  great 
detail  the  Pheidian  statues  of  Zeus  at  Olympia  and  of  Athena 
Parthenos  at  Athens,  but  he  devotes  only  twenty-seven  words 
to  the  sculptures  of  the  pediments  of  the  Parthenon,  and  does 
not  even  mention  the  metopes  and  the  frieze.  Nor  does  he 
say  a word  about  the  reliefs  of  the  Nike  temple  and  of  the 
Erechtheum. 

In  regard  to  Greek  painting  we  are  in  still  worse  case.  Of  the 
works  by  great  masters  which  filled  such  buildings  as  the  Pina- 

1 It  is  want  of  appreciation  of  such  facts  as  these,  as  well  as  too  great  license 
in  conjecture,  which  ruins  the  work  of  one  of  the  ablest  of  modern  archaeologists, 
Professor  Furtwangler.  His  Masterpieces  of  Greek  Sculpture , for  all  his  learning 
and  ability,  is  largely  built  on  shifting  sands.  Among  the  best  of  recent  books 
on  Greek  Sculpture  is  H.  Bulle’s  Der  Schone  Mensch:  Altertum , Ed.  2. 


12 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  I 


cotheca  of  Athens,  and  the  Hall  of  the  Cnidians  at  Delphi,  we 
have  no  trace,  not  even  copies  of  the  designs.  We  have  to 
judge  of  Greek  painting  mainly  from  mosaics  and  the  designs  of 
vases,  together  with  the  vulgarized  and  debased  wall-paintings 
of  Rome  and  Pompeii. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  vases,  coins,  and  cut  gems  of  Greece 
remain  to  us  often  in  their  original  state ; and  it  is  quite  main- 
tainable that  these  small  and  comparatively  insignificant  works 
give  us  a higher  notion  of  Greek  artistic  taste  and  achievement 
than  larger  monuments. 

It  is  all  the  more  wonderful,  considering  how  scanty  and 
how  much  defaced  is  the  wreckage  from  the  argosy  of  Greek 
art  which  has  come  to  land  after  the  catastrophe,  that  we  can 
still  find  the  productions  of  Greek  artists  to  be,  within  the  limits 
which  they  set  themselves,  unmatched,  and  in  fact  unapproach- 
able. This  is  a wonderful  testimony  to  the  unique  sense  of 
beauty,  and  the  unequalled  fine  taste  which  belonged  to  the 
people,  and  marks  them  out  for  all  time  as  not  less  superior 
in  these  respects  to  other  peoples  than  the  Jews  have  been 
superior  to  other  ancient  peoples  in  the  religious  sense,  the 
Chinese  in  the  production  of  pottery,  or  the  Gothic  architects 
of  France  and  England  in  the  erection  of  great  churches. 


CHAPTER  II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 

Greek  writers  have  left  us  some  useful  criticisms  on  the 
works  of  their  own  sculptors  and  painters.  Compared  with  the 
modern  mind  that  of  the  Greeks  was  uncritical.  They  were 
less  fond  of  analysis,  and  their  art  work  was  less  consciously 
directed  by  purpose.  The  best  ancient  criticism  comes  at  a 
time  when  the  spontaneity  of  art  was  past,  in  the  days  of  Pasit- 
eles  and  of  Lucian.  Yet  it  cannot  be  indifferent  to  us  to  learn 
what  views  such  masters  of  thought  as  Plato  and  Aristotle 
held  in  regard  to  the  sculptors  and  painters  who  in  their  day 
were  filling  the  stoas  and  temples  with  works  of  imperishable 
beauty. 

The  most  interesting  passage  in  ancient  literature  on  this 
subject  is  to  be  found  in  the  memoirs  of  Socrates  by  Xenophon.1 
Socrates  had  in  his  youth  worked  as  a sculptor  in  the  shop  of 
his  father,  Sophroniscus.  In  later  times  a group  of  the  Graces 
from  his  hand  was  shown  to  visitors  on  the  Acropolis  of  Athens. 
And  the  narrative  of  Xenophon,  being  less  imaginative  than 
the  immortal  works  of  Plato,  is  not  unlikely  to  record  cor- 
rectly his  views  about  art.  I will  begin  with  a translation  of 
the  whole  passage  : — 

Sometimes,  when  Socrates  discoursed  with  those  who  were 
devoted  to  the  arts  and  used  them  for  practical  purposes,  he 
was  of  use  to  them.  Once  when  he  visited  Parrhasius  the 
painter,  and  talked  with  him  he  said : 1 “ Parrhasius,  is  not 


1 Memorabilia,  III.,  10. 
13 


14 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


the  painter’s  art  one  which  represents  things  visible,  when  you 
imitate  and  depict  what  is  concave  and  convex,  what  is  dark 
and  light,  what  is  hard  and  soft,  what  is  rough  and  smooth, 
representing  in  colour  young  and  old  bodies?”  "It  is  true,” 
he  replied.  “And  when  you  represent  beautiful  bodies,  since 
it  is  not  easy  to  find  an  individual  in  all  respects  excellent, 
you  compare  many  persons,  and  putting  together  what  each 
out  of  many  has  in  greatest  excellence,  so  you  make  bodies 
fair  to  behold?”  “That  is  how  we  proceed,”  he  answered. 
“Come  then,”  he  said,  “do  you  also  imitate  those  conditions 
of  the  soul  which  are  most  attractive  and  sweet  and  humane, 
causing  most  pleasure  and  desire;  or  are  these  not  to  be  imi- 
tated?” “How,  Socrates,  could  we  imitate  that  which  has 
neither  symmetry  nor  colour,  nor  any  of  the  qualities  of  which 
just  now  you  were  speaking;  and  which  in  fact  is  invisible?” 
“Yet,”  he  said,  “it  happens  that  a man  will  look  at  others  with 
kindness  or  with  hostility.”  “So  I think,”  he  replied.  “Are 
not  these  feelings  reflected  in  the  eyes?”  “Quite  so,”  he 
answered.  “And  in  regard  to  good  and  evil  happening  to  one’s 
friends,  do  you  think  there  is  the  same  expression  of  face  in 
those  who  care  and  those  who  care  not?”.  “Certainly  not,” 
he  replied,  “men  look  with  delight  in  the  case  of  good,  with 
aversion  in  the  case  of  evil.”  “Surely,”  he  said,  “these  things 
can  be  represented.”  “Certainly,”  he  replied.  “Well  then, 
it  is  through  expression  of  face,  and  through  the  attitudes  of 
men  whether  standing  or  moving,  that  there  shine  out  such 
things  as  magnificence  and  manliness  as  well  as  what  is  debased 
and  slavish,  and  temperance  and  wisdom  as  well  as  ill-temper 
and  meanness.”  “It  is  true,”  he  answered.  “Cannot  these 
things  be  imitated  ?”  “Of  course,”  he  replied.  “Whether  then 
do  you  think  it  is  pleasanter  for  a man  to  behold,  the  expression 
of  what  is  fair  and  good  and  lovely,  or  of  what  is  foul  and  evil 
and  hateful?”  “Certainly  there  is  a great  difference,  Soc- 
rates.” 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


15 


Another  time  Socrates  visited  Cleiton  the  sculptor,1  and 
discoursed  with  him.  “I  see  and  recognize,”  he  said,  “ Clei- 
ton, that  you  distinguish  2 runners  and  wrestlers,  and  boxers 
and  pancratiasts ; but  how  do  you  introduce  into  your  statues 
the  lifelike  aspect  which  especially  attracts  the  eyes  of  men?” 
And  when  Cleiton  was  embarrassed,  and  could  not  answer  at 
once,  he  went  on  : “ Surely  by  imitating  in  your  work  the  forms 

of  living  men,  you  make  your  statues  more  lifelike. ” “ Cer- 

tainly,^ ” he  replied.  “It  is  then  by  rendering  the  parts  of  the 
body  which  in  various  attitudes  are  drawn  up  and  drawn  down, 
and  pressed  together  and  separated,  and  strained  and  loosened, 
that  you  make  figures  more  like  the  real  ones  and  more  con- 
vincing?” “Quite  so,”  he  replied.  “So  the  imitation  of  the 
strain  of  bodies  doing  this  or  that  produces  pleasure  in  the 
beholders  ?”  “It  seems  so,”  he  replied.  “Must  you  not  then 
imitate  the  threatening  eyes  of  those  who  are  fighting,  and  the 
triumphant  expression  of  those  who  are  victorious?”  “De- 
cidedly,” he  answered.  “It  is  then  the  business  of  a sculptor 
to  represent  in  bodily  forms  the  energies  of  the  spirit.” 

Xenophon  says  that  Socrates  was  of  use  to  painter  and 
sculptor,  and  he  explains  in  what  way  he  was  of  use,  by  direct- 
ing them  to  think  more  of  the  energies  of  the  spirit.  Parrha- 
sius  was  skilled  in  rendering  the  facts  of  the  surface  of  the 
human  body,  whether  young  or  old.  And  he  knew  how,  by 
a skilful  selection  of  the  beauties  of  individuals,  to  form  an  ideal 
type.  We  shall  see,  in  a later  chapter,  that  this  procedure  was 
usual  with  artists.  What  Parrhasius  was  less  alive  to  was  the 
degree  to  which  the  feelings  of  the  spirit  can  be  mirrored  in 
painting,  and  the  emotional  turn  which  can  thus  be  given  to 
art. 

In  the  same  way  Cleiton  fully  understood  that  the  bodily 

1 Dr.  Klein  has  suggested  that  Cleiton  may  be  an  abbreviated  form  of  Poly- 
cleitus ; but  the  statues  of  Polycleitus,  however  beautiful,  are  scarcely  lifelike. 

2 I take  the  reading  aWoiov s ttolcls:  the  reading  kclXol  ovs  ttolcls  ‘you  make 
beautiful,’  quite  spoils  the  sense. 


16 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


forms  of  runners  and  wrestlers  and  boxers  must  be  differenti- 
ated. This  is  a hint  to  the  modern  archaeologist,  who  often 
does  not  carefully  consider  the  build  of  a statue  of  an  athlete 
with  a view  to  determining  what  was  his  special  field  in  ath- 
letics, but  is  content  vaguely  to  call  him  “an  athlete.”  To  this 
point  also  we  shall  return.  Cleiton  also  understood  that  it 
was  only  by  studying  and  copying  living  bodies  that  he  could 
make  his  figures  lifelike.  But  Socrates  thought  him  defective 
in  the  expression  of  emotion.  Most  moderns  would  agree  that 
this  is  a weak  point  in  fifth-century  art ; though  the  modern 
critic  would  less  fully  recognize  that  expression  must  be  con- 
veyed, not  only  by  the  features  of  the  face,  but  by  the  attitude 
and  strain  of  the  body.  It  is  clear  that  Socrates  in  thought 
led  the  way  to  the  more  expressive  art  which  came  in  in  the 
fourth  century.  But  he  is  emphatic,  as  a true  Greek  idealist, 
in  maintaining  that  what  is  beautiful  and  lovely  is  a more 
suitable  subject  for  art  than  the  ugly  and  the  mean. 

Plato  is  inferior  to  his  master  in  knowledge  and  appreciation 
of  art.  Indeed  his  spiritual  philosophy  has  no  great  sympathy 
for  the  mimetic  arts.  As  we  see  from  the  Republic  (p.  598), 
he  regarded  these  arts  as  only  producing  imitations  of  material 
objects,  which  were  in  turn  but  copies  or  reflections  of  those 
archetypal  ideas  which  existed  in  the  world  of  spirit  or  reality. 
Thus  painter  and  sculptor  were  only  copyists  of  phantasms. 
Such  has  in  most  ages  been  the  attitude  of  strongly  religious 
and  spiritual  thinkers,  who  look  down  on  the  world  of  sense. 
But  in  Plato  one  the  more  regrets  this  attitude,  because  it 
blinded  him  to  the  truth  that  Greek  art  is  never  content  with 
the  mere  appearance,  but  is  ever  working  back  to  the  idea,  is, 
in  fact,  as  idealistic  as  the  Platonic  philosophy  itself.  Indeed, 
idealism  in  art  can  best  be  justified  by  an  application  of  the 
language  of  the  philosophy  of  Plato.  It  is  based  on  the  desire 
to  realize  those  divine  ideas  which  have  since  the  time  of  Plato 
been  spoken  of  in  many  schools  of  philosophy. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


17 


In  some  of  his  works,  such  as  the  Symposium , Plato  speaks 
of  art  in  a somewhat  different  tone.  So  fine  a stylist  could  not 
be  wholly  indifferent  to  poetry;  and  in  some  places  Plato 
speaks  of  the  poet  as  an  inspired  madman.  But  he  scarcely 
extends  this  semi-toleration  from  poetry  to  the  plastic  arts. 
In  the  Laws,1  the  Athenian  stranger,  evidently  with  Plato’s 
approbation,  speaks  admiringly  of  the  art  of  Egypt  because  it 
is  stationary  and  fixed.  That  Plato  should  prefer  the  stagnant 
art  of  Egypt  to  the  marvellous  works  of  his  own  great  contem- 
poraries in  Greece  is  a fact  which  stimulates  reflection.  After 
this,  the  less  said  of  him  as  an  art  critic  the  better.  With 
Plato  began  the  feud  between  the  moralist  and  the  artist  which 
is  likely  to  be  eternal. 

Aristotle  was  far  broader  and  more  universal  in  his  sym- 
pathies than  his  predecessor.  Looking  on  all  things  with  clear 
and  steadfast  eyes,  he  may  be  said  to  have  ranged  in  pigeon- 
holes the  results  of  Greek  thinking  up  to  his  time.  His 
Poetics  is  an  attempt  to  frame  a theory  or  philosophy  of  poetry 
and  fine  art.  But  he  does  not  seem  to  have  known  much 
about  painting  and  sculpture ; he  takes  poetry  in  general,  the 
epic  and  the  drama  of  the  Attic  tragedians  in  particular,  as  the 
type  of  art.  No  doubt  most  moderns  would  agree  with  him 
that  poetry  is  the  highest  and  noblest  of  the  arts.  But  that 
fact  does  not  make  it  fairly  typical  of  the  rest ; in  fact,  it  differs 
in  so  many  and  so  striking  ways  from  plastic  art  that  only  the 
most  general  propositions  can  be  true  of  both.  The  Greek 
drama,  it  is  true,  was  a very  clearly  defined  form  of  poetry, 
a kind  which  was  regulated  by  most  exact  laws,  and  was  written 
not  to  be  read,  but  only  to  be  exhibited  on  the  stage  to  the  eyes 
and  ears  of  an  audience,  much  in  the  fashion  of  a relief.  The 
Greek  drama  was  thus  far  nearer  to  plastic  art  than  is  the 
modern  drama.  But  it  is  a pity  that  modern  writers  have  been 

i p.  657. 
c 


18 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


led  by  the  authority  of  Aristotle  to  take  the  drama  as  the  typical 
art,  as  they  have  been  in  some  respects  misled  by  this  selection. 

On  the  whole,  Aristotle’s  observations  on  sculpture  and  paint- 
ing are  slight  and  general.  But  his  view  is  in  the  main  the  true 
one,  and  some  of  the  distinctions  which  he  draws  are  very  help- 
ful to  us  in  the  discussion  of  the  principles  of  Greek  mimetic  art. 

To  begin  with,  though  Aristotle  regards  sculpture  and  paint- 
ing as  mimetic,  imitative  arts,  he  does  not  fall  into  Plato’s 
mistake  of  therefore  despising  them.  For  he  realizes  that  when 
they  imitate  nature,  what  they  imitate  is  not  mere  outward 
appearances,  but  the  ideal  which  those  appearances  partly 
conceal  and  partly  reveal.  “ Nature  in  Aristotle,”  writes  Mr. 
Butcher,  “is  not  the  outward  world  of  created  things;  it  is  the 
creative  force,  the  productive  principle,  of  the  Universe.” 
For  example,  he  observes  of  portrait  painters1  that  “they, 
while  reproducing  the  distinctive  form  of  the  original,  make  a 
likeness  which  is  true  to  life  and  yet  more  beautiful.”  This 
reminds  us  of  Dannecker’s  saying  in  regard  to  the  figures  in  the 
Parthenon  Pediments,  “they  are  as  if  modelled  on  nature,  yet 
I have  never  had  the  good  fortune  to  see  such  nature.” 

We  may  thus  claim  Aristotle  as  setting  forth  the  true  view 
of  Greek  art.  Professor  Butcher  observes 2 that  to  him  “a 
work  of  art  is  an  idealized  representation  of  human  life  — - of 
character,  emotion,  action* — under  forms  manifest  to  sense.” 
“Imitation,  so  understood,  is  a creative  act.  It  is  the  expres- 
sion of  the  concrete  thing  under  an  image  which  answers  to  its 
true  idea.  To  seize  the  universal,  and  to  reproduce  it  in  simple 
and  sensuous  form,  is  not  to  reflect  a reality  already  familiar 
through  sense  perceptions;  rather  it  is  a rivalry  of  nature,  a 
completion  of  her  unfulfilled  purposes,  a correction  of  her 
failures.” 

Aristotle  says  that  “the  objects  of  imitation  are  men  in  a 

1 Poetics , XV.,  8.  Butcher’s  translation. 

2 Aristotle's  Theory  of  Poetry  and  Fine  Art , pp.  153,  154. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


19 


state  of  activity”;1  but  this  is  an  exaggeration,  unless  mere 
existence  be  regarded  as  an  activity : indeed,  repose,  whether 
momentary  or  lengthened,  is  a favourite  motive  of  Greek  art. 
And  early  Greek  art,  though  it  loves  action,  does  not  love 
strained  or  violent  action.  Aristotle  also  observes,  in  the 
same  passage,  that  painters  depict  men  as  either  better  or 
worse  than  they  are,  or  on  their  actual  level.  This  of  course 
as  it  stands  is  a truism;  but  caricature  is  almost  unknown  in 
Greek  art.  Even  the  commonplace  in  Greek  hands  ceases  to 
be  trivial,  and  almost  always  men  are  depicted  as  better  than 
they  are. 

It  is  a saying  found  in  Athenaeus  2 that  early  sculpture  is  a 
record  or  relic  of  dancing  ( opxwL<> )•  This  seems  to  us  a para- 
dox, since  Greek  statues  are  usually  in  simple  and  unstrained 
attitudes.  In  order  to  understand  it,  we  must  consider  that  the 
dancing  of  the  Greek  was  largely  made  up  of  significant  poses 
and  postures;  it  included  not  only  violent  motions,  but  any 
which  had  a rhythmical  character,  whether  of  arms,  body,  or 
legs.  With  them  any  emotion  could  be  represented  in  dancing, 
and  statues  which  embodied  those  emotions  might  well  seem  like 
a petrifaction  of  dancers.  Even  athletes  in  Greece  did  their 
exercises  to  the  sound  of  the  flute,  thus  imparting  to  them 
what  may  be  fairly  called  a musical  character. 

Both  Plato  and  Aristotle  were  after  all  Greeks,  and  could 
not  look  upon  art  in  any  but  a Hellenic  light.  In  spite  of 
the  incomparable  value  which  he  attached  to  the  things  of  the 
spirit,  Plato  was  not  wholly  insensible  to  beauty  of  form.  In 
the  Republic , when  he  is  sketching  an  ideal  education  for  the 
Guardians  of  the  State,  he  lays  emphasis  on  the  need  of  satu- 
rating not  only  their  minds  but  their  eyes  with  what  is  fair 
and  noble.  He  would  seek  out  artists,3  “who  by  the  power  of 
genius  can  trace  out  the  nature  of  the  fair  and  the  graceful, 

1 Poetics,  II.,  1.  2 Deipnosophistae,  XIV.,  p.  629. 

3 Republic,  p.  401.  Transl.  Davies  and  Vaughan. 


20 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


that  our  young  men,  dwelling  as  it  were  in  a healthful  region, 
may  drink  in  good  from  every  quarter,  whence  any  emanation 
from  noble  works  may  strike  upon  their  ear,  like  a gale  waft- 
ing health  from  salubrious  lands,  and  win  them  impercep- 
tibly from  their  earliest  childhood  into  resemblance  love  and 
harmony  with  the  true  beauty  of  reason.”  In  a similar  spirit 
Aristotle  advocates  the  teaching  to  boys  of  drawing,  not  for 
the  lower  purpose  of  enabling  them  to  buy  the  right  works  of 
art,  but  in  order  that  they  may  become  judges  of  the  beauty 
of  the  human  form.1 

But  Plato,  though  alive  to  human  beauty,  also  shares  and 
carries  further  his  countrymen’s  dulness  to  the  beauty  of  natural 
scenes.  When,  he  says,  a painter  has  to  render  mountain  or 
river,  forest  or  sky,  we  are  content  with  mere  suggestions. 
“ Since  we  have  no  accurate  knowledge  of  such  things  we  do  not 
closely  examine  or  criticise  the  paintings  ; we  are  content  with  a 
vague  and  delusive  rendering  in  such  a case.  But  when  an 
artist  tries  to  represent  our  bodies,  we  keenly  perceive  the  de- 
fects, and  in  virtue  of  our  constant  close  observation,  become 
severe  critics  of  one  who  does  not  render  in  all  respects  an 
accurate  likeness.”  2 To  a modern  critic  this  pronouncement 
may  well  seem  an  extreme  paradox,  but  there  can  be  no  doubt 
that  it  represents  the  Greek  attitude  of  mind. 

There  are  certain  phrases  and  contrasts  mostly  found  in 
Aristotle’s  Poetics  which  become  a sort  of  stock  in  trade  to 
subsequent  writers,  such  contrasts  as  that  between  the  art 
which  ennobles  and  the  art  which  traduces,  between  ethical 
and  pathetic  art,  between  symmetry  and  rhythm,  and  the  like. 
It  will  be  worth  while  briefly  to  examine  these  formulae.  We 
will  begin  with  the  contrast  of  symmetry  and  rhythm. 

Symmetry  (crv/ifieTpia)  is  properly  the  proportion  of  one  part 
of  the  body  as  measured  against  another.  Several  of  the  great 
sculptors  of  Greece  held,  as  Lionardo  da  Vinci  held  later,  that 

2 Critias,  Ad  init. 


1 Politics , VIII.,  3. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


21 


certain  proportions  are  so  beautiful  that  they  should  always  be, 
within  certain  limits,  preserved  — the  proportion  of  the  height 
of  the  head  or  the  length  of  the  foot  to  the  whole  stature,  and 
the  length  of  parts  of  the  head  or  the  body  to  other  parts. 
We  know  from  observation  with  what  remarkable  care  and  mi- 
nuteness the  Greeks  regulated  the  proportions  of  columns  and 
other  members  of  their  temples.  They  had  a strong  tendency 
toward  introducing  simple  mathematical  relations,  which  may 
perhaps  have  been  but  a human  rendering  of  the  tendency 
in  nature  toward  simple  curves  and  pleasing  proportions.  It 
was  quite  natural  that  they  should  transfer  this  tendency  from 
architecture  to  sculpture. 

Of  symmetry  in  the  strict  sense,  the  mathematical  propor- 
tion of  part  to  part,  we  have  a remarkable  example  in  the  Man 
with  a Spear,  the  Doryphorus,  of  Polycleitus.  Of  this  work 
ancient  writers  tell  us  that  it  embodied  in  a work  of  art  the 
views  of  Polycleitus  as  to  the  due  proportions  of  the  human 
body,  on  which  he  also  wrote  a treatise,  as  did  Lionardo  da 
Vinci,  and  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  have  extant  copies  of 
this  historic  type  of  symmetry,  the  best  of  which  is  in  the 
Museum  of  Naples.  This  happens  conveniently  to  be  two 
metres,  six  feet  eight  inches,  in  height,  and  it  has  naturally 
been  submitted  to  very  detailed  measurements.  It  has  been 
found  that  the  length  of  the  foot  is  .33  metre,  or  one-sixth  of 
the  height,  and  the  height  of  the  face  .20  metre,  or  one-tenth 
of  the  height.  M.  Guillaume  has  carried  the  analysis  farther. 
He  cites  1 a passage  of  the  great  physician  Galen,  which  runs 
as  follows : “ Chrysippus  thinks  that  beauty  resides  in  the 

proportion  of  the  limbs,  that  is,  in  the  relation  of  finger  to 
finger,  of  the  fingers  together  to  the  palm  and  wrist,  of  these 
parts  to  the  lower  arm,  of  the  lower  arm  to  the  upper  arm,  and 
of  the  limbs  to  one  another,  as  it  is  written  in  the  canon  of 

1 E.  Guillaume,  Etudes  d' Art  antique  et  moderne,  Paris,  1888.  Rayet,  Monu- 
ments de  V Art  antique , No.  29.  Compare  Galen,  De  plac.  Hipp.  et  Plat.,  5. 


22 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Polycleitus.”  Comparing  with  this  statement  the  actual  facts 
of  the  statue,  M.  Guillaume  finds  that  the  palm,  that  is,  the 
breadth  of  the  hand  at  the  roots  of  the  fingers,  does  serve  as  a 
common  measure  of  its  proportions.  This  palm  is  one-third  of 
the  length  of  the  foot,  one-sixth  of  the  length  of  the  lower  leg, 
one-sixth  of  the  length  of  the  thigh,  one-sixth  of  the  length 
from  navel  to  ear,  and  so  forth. 

This  is  a mere  outward  and  superficial  symmetry.  But 
the  term  is  afterwards  used  more  generally  to  express  grace  of 
outline  in  repose. 

The  term  rhythm  is  less  easy  to  interpret.  Brunn  held  that 
as  symmetry  was  the  relation  of  part  to  part  when*&t  rest,  so 
rhythm  was  the  correspondence  of  part  to  part  when  in  motion. 
The  simplest  instance  of  rhythm  in  the  human  body  is  found 
in  the  fact  that  when  in  walking  the  right  foot  is  advanced,  the 
left  arm  moves  naturally  with  it,  and  so  balance  is  preserved. 
The  Discobolus  of  Myron  (Fig.  19)  would  be  a typical  example  of 
the  rhythm  of  balance.  It  has,  however,  been  pointed  out 1 
that  in  use  the  word  has  a wider  meaning,  being  applied  to 
clothes,  a cup,  letters.  The  application  of  the  term  to  balance 
and  cadence  in  music  and  poetry  is  familiar  to  us : in  sculpture 
it  is  now  only  used  by  analogy.  It  would  seem  that  rhythm 
implies  movement,  regular  and  balanced ; but  that  movement 
may  be  summed  up  in  a sculptured  or  painted  figure,  or  it  may 
take  place  in  the  eye  and  mind  of  the  spectator  as  he  passes  from 
point  to  point  in  any  production  of  nature  or  work  of  art. 
Sprays  of  a tree  are  rhythmical,  both  because  they  actually  put 
out  a leaf  first  on  one  side  and  then  on  the  other,  and  because 
they  lead  on  the  eye  in  a rhythmical  manner.  Pediments  of 
Greek  temples  are  rhythmical  when  the  eye  passes  from  figure 
to  figure  with  a certain  cadence;  and  it  is  evident,  as  we  shall 
see  in  a future  chapter,  that  pediments  and  reliefs  were  planned 
with  a view  to  this  effect. 

1 E.  A.  Gardner,  Handbook  of  Greek  Sculpture , I.,  p.  248. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


23 


Another  contrast  on  which  Greek  critics  dwell  is  that  between 
ethos  (rjQos)  and  pathos.  They  tell  us  that  the  great  schools 
of  art  in  the  fifth  century,  the  painters  Polygnotus  and  Micon, 
the  sculptors  Pheidias  and  Polycleitus,  appeared  to  later  ages 
to  be  predominantly  ethical;  but  that  when  we  come  to  the 
artists  of  the  fourth  century,  the  painters  Zeuxis  and  Apelles, 
the  sculptors  Praxiteles  and  Scopas,  this  ethical  character  gives 
way  to  pathos.  Ethos  in  men  is  that  which  is  permanent  and 
essential,  the  underlying  foundations  of  a man's  nature  as  in- 
herited by  him  from  his  ancestors,  and  as  modified  by  the 
course  of  his  life  and  action.  An  ethical  portrait  shows  us  a 
man  as  he  lives  in  the  world  of  ideas,  apart  from  any  changing 
appearances  arising  from  the  particular  time  of  life  at  which 
he  is  portrayed,  the  precise  state  of  his  health,  or  the  impulses 
which  are  at  the  moment  dominant.  In  this  permanent  ethical 
aspect  men  may  be  good  or  bad,  but  the  great  art  of  Greece 
usually  depicts  only  what  is  good ; it  looks  on  the  better  side 
of  things,  and  sees  rather  the  best  that  men  might  attain  to 
than  the  worst  to  which  they  might  fall.  At  the  same  time, 
it  must  be  allowed  that  the  Greek  physical  ideal  was  more 
fleshly  than  could  be  accepted  by  any  nation  whose  thought 
and  belief  had  been  moulded  by  Christianity.  Greek  religion 
and  morality  aimed  rather  at  the  mean  than  the  extreme,  and 
asceticism  had  no  part  in  them. 

The  ethos,  which  is  character,  will  evidently  be  differently 
represented  in  different  schools.  In  Greece  there  were  two 
main  conceptions  of  it.  The  Argive  and  Dorian  artists  were, 
in  type,  athletic  rather  than  religious  or  intellectual ; thus  the 
ethos  represented  in  such  works  of  art  as  the  Doryphorus,  and 
still  more  in  some  of  the  portraits  of  boy- victors  by  Polycleitus, 
is  indeed  thoroughly  Greek,  representing  a disposition  at  one 
with  itself  and  with  nature,  but  stands  far  from  the  restless 
intelligence  of  Athens.  In  the  Ionian  school  we  have  a some- 
what different  tendency.  The  great  painter  Polygnotus,  of 


24 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


whom  ancient  critics  speak  as  predominantly  ethical,  is  known 
to  us  from  the  detailed  descriptions  of  his  paintings  left  us  by 
the  traveller  Pausanias,1  whence  we  can  judge  that  they  were 
pervaded  by  a delightful  gentleness  of  sentiment  and  repose  of 
treatment.  In  the  works  of  Pheidias,  also  a great  ethical 
sculptor,  we  may  trace  a broader  and  more  varied  rendering  of 
character.  In  the  Parthenon  frieze  we  have  the  gentle  order- 
liness of  Polygnotus,  but  in  the  most  noted  works  of  the 
Master,  the  Zeus  of  Olympia,  and  the  Athena  Parthenos  of 
Athens,  we  may  discern  a higher  strain.  These  works  em- 
bodied to  the  Greek  mind  the  highest  qualities  of  the  divine 
beings  portrayed.  Quintilian  says  that  they  added  something 
to  the  received  religion;  what  this  means  we  shall  consider  in 
chapter  VI. 

The  pathetic  schools  of  sculpture  and  painting  were  scarcely 
less  ideal  than  were  the  ethical  — the  Greek  never  gave  up  his 
search  for  the  type  — but  yet  they  aimed  less  at  what  was  per- 
manent in  the  figures  which  they  produced,  and  ventured  to 
attempt  the  rendering  of  more  transitory  action  and  feeling. 
We  find  a preparation  for  the  pathetic  school  of  sculpture  in 
the  remark  of  Socrates  to  the  sculptor  Cleiton,  that  the  affections 
of  the  soul,  ra  tt)?  epya,  may  be  indicated  in  sculpture. 

The  fighting  warriors  of  Scopas  are  as  noble  in  form  as  the 
athletes  of  Polycleitus,  but  they  surpass  them  in  expressive- 
ness ; alike  in  face  and  attitude,  they  freely  embody  the  expres- 
sion of  “the  delights  and  the  horrors  of  war.”  2 The  Hermes, 
the  Aphrodite,  and  the  Satyrs  of  Praxiteles  do  not  embody 
active  pathos  or  passion,  but  a gentle  contemplative  attitude,  a 
pathos  of  repose.  Later,  in  the  age  after  Alexander,  we  have 
pathos  of  a more  modern  kind,  free  representations  of  strong 
emotion  of  all  kinds,  though  even  then  Greek  sculpture  never 

1 The  paintings  are  restored  conjecturally  by  Professor  Robert ; repeated  in 
Frazer’s  Pausanias,  Vol.  V.  See  ch.  XII. 

2 Perhaps  Aristotle  would  have  regarded  Scopas’  warriors  as  illustrating  the 
class  of  7r/>d£ets,  rather  than  that  of  Trd0r). 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


25 


loses  its  innate  nobility,  or  sinks  to  a level  which  can  be  called 
vulgar.  One  may  fairly  say  that  it  idealizes  even  deformity 
itself.  For  example,  in  the  Palace  of  the  Conservators  at  Rome 
there  are  two  noteworthy  statues  of  the  Hellenistic  age,1  one 
representing  an  old  fisherman,  the  other  an  old  shepherdess. 
Both  are  ugly  and  wrinkled,  and  the  folds  of  their  skin  are 
portrayed  with  wonderful  fidelity  to  life.  At  first  sight  they 
seem  mere  transcripts  from  sordid  actuality.  Yet,  on  a closer 
study,  one  sees  how  marvellously  they  embody  the  idea  of  a 
life  of  hardship  passed  in  battling  with  wind  and  storm;  and 
they  are  found,  after  all,  to  have  an  underlying  idealism,  which 
one  would  not  always  find  in  a modern  rendering  of  the  same 
subjects.  Their  character,  if  one  may  use  a modern  parallel, 
is  of  the  school  of  Dickens,  rather  than  of  the  school  of  the 
Police  Gazette.  Dickens  has  also  been  called  a realist ; but  in 
fact  he  gives  us  not  individuals  but  types,  much  in  the  fashion 
of  the  Greeks,  but  without  their  delicacy  of  taste. 

Another  distinction  drawn  by  Aristotle  is  between  the  poets 
and  artists  who  represent  men  as  better  than  they  are,  and 
those  who  represent  them  as  worse  than  they  are,  with  the 
intermediate  class  of  those  who  represent  men  neither  as  better 
nor  as  worse,  but  exactly  as  they  are  in  fact.  “Sophocles,”  he 
remarks,2  “said  that  he  drew  men  as  they  ought  to  be,  Eurip- 
ides as  they  are.”  Of  course  the  broad  distinction  between 
the  idealist,  the  naturalist  and  the  caricaturist  holds  at  all 
times  and  in  all  lands.  But  to  discuss  this  matter  at  length 
would  take  us  too  far  into  the  deep  waters  of  aesthetics,  and  we 
must  reserve  it  for  treatment  in  the  final  chapter  of  this  book. 

In  the  great  and  flourishing  time  of  art,  while  every  day 
brought  forth  new  and  striking  developments,  while  great 
temples  were  rising,  and  the  market-places  were  being  stored 
like  museums  with  the  masterpieces  of  great  sculptors,  it  does 

2 Poetics , XXV.,  10. 


1 In  Brunn’s  series,  PI.  393. 


26 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


not  seem  to  have  occurred  to  any  one  to  write  on  the  subject. 
It  was  only  with  the  rise  of  Alexandria  that  writers  began  to  be 
commentators,  to  give  an  account  of  those  who  had  produced 
great  works  of  literature  and  art,  and  to  describe  their  activi- 
ties. It  is  true  that  some  of  the  great  sculptors  wrote  works 
on  the  ideal  proportions  of  the  human  frame,  notably  Poly- 
cleitus  and  Euphranor.  But  such  works  were  neither  historical 
nor  critical,  but  a statement  of  the  principles  which  were 
adopted  by  the  writers.  Some  of  the  Peripatetic  followers  of 
Aristotle  seem  to  have,  as  a relief  to  their  severer  studies,  col- 
lected anecdotes  about  noteworthy  men.  But  in  the  Hellen- 
istic age  more  learning  was  in  vogue.  Xenocrates,  a sculptor  of 
the  School  of  Lysippus,  and  Antigonus  of  Carystus  in  Euboea, 
seem  to  have  written  complete  histories  of  painting  and  sculp- 
ture. And  in  the  last  century  b.c.  Pasiteles,  a sculptor  of  the 
Xeo-Attic  School  which  flourished  in  the  time  of  Caesar,  was 
as  noted  for  his  historic  writings  as  for  his  adaptations  to  later 
taste  of  early  schemes  in  art. 

The  learned  Roman  authors,  Varro  and  Pliny,  did  little 
more  than  make  abstracts,  and  put  together  the  statements  of 
such  Greek  writers  as  Xenocrates  and  Pasiteles.  The  only  ex- 
tensive account  of  the  history  of  Greek  art  which  has  come 
down  to  us  is  contained  in  two  or  three  books  of  the  Natural 
History  of  Pliny.1  Pliny  was  a laborious  writer,  contemporary 
with  the  Caesars  of  the  first  century  a.d.,  who  spent  most  of  his 
life  in  reading  learned  Greek  works,  or  having  them  read  to 
him  by  a secretary,  and  making  notes  of  their  contents.  These 
notes  are  not  very  critical,  and  contain  misunderstandings,  but 
in  the  absence  of  the  Greek  originals  they  become  of  value  to 
us.  It  may  be  asked  what  the  history  of  art  has  to  do  with 
that  of  nature.  Eortunately  for  us,  Pliny  chose  to  consider 
chapters  on  the  working  of  bronze  as  a necessary  supplement 

1 The  Elder  Pliny's  Chapters  on  the  History  of  Art , K.  Jex-Blake  and  E. 
Sellers,  1896. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


27 


to  his  account  of  the  procuring  and  smelting  of  the  metal : 
and  in  the  same  way  his  account  of  marble-sculpture,  painting 
and  gem-cutting  is  regarded  by  him  as  a completion  of  his 
chapters  on  various  kinds  of  earth,  pigments  and  precious 
stones.  The  result  of  this  plan  of  grouping  according  to  the 
material  used  by  the  artist  is  curious.  The  sculptors  who 
worked  in  bronze  are  catalogued  in  a different  place  from  those 
who  worked  in  marble.  No  doubt  there  were  in  Greece  schools 
in  which  the  working  of  bronze  predominated,  such  as  the 
school  of  Argos,  and  others,  such  as  that  of  Chios,  which  worked 
mainly  in  marble.  But  many  of  the  Greek  sculptors  were 
noted  for  work  in  both  materials ; thus  Praxiteles,  for  example, 
figures  in  both  sections  of  Pliny.  Other  writers,  such  as  Quin- 
tilian and  Cicero,  sometimes  furnish  us  with  information  as  to 
the  place  of  sculptors  in  history.1 

Cicero  fluctuates,  in  a way  which  is  very  amusing,  between  his 
desire  to  be  regarded  as  a lover  of  art  and  his  deep  Roman  con- 
viction that  such  matters  as  art  are  scarcely  worthy  of  the  atten- 
tion of  a serious  statesman.  He  collected  works  of  Greek 
sculpture ; but  in  his  letters  he  often  avows  how  little  he  knows 
of  art.  When  'in  his  dialogues  he  writes  on  the  subject,  the 
superficiality  of  his  knowledge  is  apparent  enough.  “Who 
is  there/’  he  writes,2  “among  those  who  pay  attention  to  these 
lesser  matters,  who  does  not  recognize  that  the  statues  of 
Canachus  are  too  stiff  to  represent  nature,  while  those  of  Cala- 
mis,  though  stiff,  are  softer  than  those  of  Canachus  ? Those 
of  Myron  have  not  yet  attained  complete  fidelity  to  nature, 
but  you  would  not  hesitate  to  call  them  beautiful ; those  of 
Polycleitus  are  yet  more  beautiful ; and  indeed  in  my  opinion 
quite  perfect.  The  case  is  similar  in  regard  to  painting  : there 
we  appreciate  the  forms  and  the  drawing  of  Zeuxis,  Polygnotus, 

1 The  passages  of  ancient  writers  bearing  upon  sculpture  are  collected,  and 
translated,  in  H.  S.  Jones,  Ancient  Writers  on  Greek  Sculpture.  A fuller  collec- 
tion is  Overbeck’s  Schriftquellen  zur  Geschichte  der  bildenden  KiXnste. 

2 Brutus , 18. 


28 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Timanthes  and  those  who  did  not  use  more  than  four  colours ; 
but  in  the  works  of  Echion,  Nicomachus,  Protogenes  and  Apel- 
les everything  is  perfect/'  When  a critic  speaks  of  an  artist 
as  perfect  it  shows  how  crude  his  judgment  is,  and  how  little 
he  realizes  that  art  is  a ladder  set  up  on  the  earth  but  reaching  to 
the  stars. 

While  Pliny  deals  with  Greek  sculptors  and  painters  and 
their  works  in  historic  order,  they  are  reviewed  from  another 
point  of  view,  the  topographical,  by  Pausanias,  an  intelligent 
Greek  traveller,  who  in  the  age  of  the  Antonine  Emperors 
spent  much  time  in  travelling  through  Greece,  and  making  a 
careful  record  of  what  he  saw.  A generation  ago  it  was  the 
fashion  to  regard  Pausanias  as  a mere  disher  up  of  other  men's 
notes,  and  an  untrustworthy  authority;  but  one  result  of  the 
recent  careful  excavations  at  Olympia  and  Delphi  has  been 
entirely  to  revive  his  credit.  We  are  now  convinced  of  his 
carefulness  and  general  accuracy,  though  now  and  then  he 
misreads  his  authorities  or  his  notes ; and  his  history,  for  which 
of  course  he  depends  on  older  writers,  is  not  authoritative. 
But  he  really  saw  what  he  professes  to  have  seen ; his  very  mis- 
takes are  often  the  exceptions  to  prove  the  rule  of  general 
accuracy,  for  we  can  see  how  he  was  misled.  In  spite  of  the 
ravages  of  Flamininus  and  Mummius,  of  Augustus  and  Nero, 
Greece  in  the  age  of  Pausanias  still  remained  a storehouse 
richly  crowded  with  works  of  art,  paintings,  bronzes,  marbles, 
splendid  statues  of  the  Gods,  and  series  of  dedications  dating 
from  the  rise  of  Greek  art  in  the  sixth  century  to  the  Indian 
summer  of  the  days  of  Hadrian.  The  reader  who  wishes  to 
know  what  the  market-places,  the  stoas,  the  temples  of  Greece 
were  like,  before  the  fury  of  the  early  Christians  broke  upon 
them,  should  read  a few  books  of  Pausanias,  in  the  version  of 
Dr.  J.  G.  Frazer.1  And  if  he  wishes  to  learn  what  modern 
research  has  added  to  the  information  given  by  the  Traveller, 

1 J.  G.  Frazer,  Pausanias' s Description  of  Greece , 6 volumes,  1898. 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


29 


he  should  study  the  learned  notes  and  dissertations  of  the  same 
admirable  writer. 

Pausanias  is,  it  must  be  allowed,  a dull  writer.  Though 
he  often  tries  to  imitate  the  style  of  Herodotus,  his  imitation  is 
of  the  most  superficial  kind,  and  the  charm,  the  humour,  the 
humanity  of  Herodotus  are  far  out  of  his  reach.  Perhaps  he  is 
the  safer  guide  in  matters  of  fact ; it  is  certain  that  if  he  makes 
mistakes,  those  mistakes  will  be  due  rather  to  confusion  of  notes 
than  to  flights  of  imagination.  It  is  interesting  to  observe 
what  works  of  art  preserved  in  the  agorae  and  temples  this 
predecessor  of  Baedeker  marks,  so  to  speak,  with  an  asterisk. 
First,  he  has  a great  respect  for  the  works  of  the  Greek  Primi- 
tives. When  he  comes  to  the  “ Chest  of  Cypselus”  in  the  He- 
raeum  at  Olympia,  a wooden  chest  of  the  seventh  century, 
made  of  cedar  wood  and  inlaid  with  a number  of  scenes  from 
Greek  mythology,  varied  with  ivory,  ebony  and  gold,  he  describes 
these  scenes  figure  by  figure,  and  copies  the  archaic  inscriptions 
which  explained  them.  So  precise  is  his  detailed  catalogue 
that  Mr.  Stuart  Jones  has  succeeded  in  recreating  the  scenes 
of  the  chest,  figure  by  figure,  from  the  testimony  of  Attic  and 
Chalcidian  and  Corinthian  vases  of  the  period.1  In  the  same 
detail  he  describes  the  wonderful  throne  made  for  the  Apollo 
of  Amyclae  by  the  Ionian  sculptor  Bathycles.  He  seldom 
passes  without  mention  large  works  of  archaic  style,  unless 
indeed  they  be  part  of  the  decoration  of  a temple.  Next  to 
archaic  works  he  holds  in  honour  the  great  monuments  of  the 
fifth  century,  the  masterpieces  of  Polygnotus  the  painter,  or 
Pheidias  and  Polycleitus  the  sculptors.  The  great  paintings 
in  the  house  of  the  people  of  Cnidus  at  Delphi  by  Polygnotus, 
which  represented  the  taking  of  Troy  and  the  visit  of  Odysseus 
to  Hades,  he  describes  in  utmost  detail,  again  giving  every 
chance  to  the  modern  restorer.  He  writes  page  after  page 

1 Journ.  Hell.  Studies,  XIV.,  30 ; PI.  I. : repeated  in  Frazer’s  Pausanias, 

Vol.  III.,  PI.  X. 


30 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


about  the  minute  decoration  of  the  ivory  throne  in  which  the 
Zeus  of  Olympia  was  seated.  The  only  temple-sculptures, 
however,  which  he  carefully  describes  are  those  of  the  temple 
in  which  that  great  statue  was  seated;  perhaps  rather  on  ac- 
count of  the  religious  importance  of  the  spot,  than  on  account 
of  their  beauty. 

It  is  fortunate  that  the  texts  of  Pliny  and  Pausanias  are 
composed  from  different  points  of  view,  and  help  one  another. 
They  give  the  student,  so  to  speak,  indications  of  latitude  and 
longitude,  by  the  help  of  which  he  can  locate  artists  and  works 
of  art. 

Another  writer  of  importance  to  the  student  of  Greek  art 
is  Lucian.  The  authorities  cited  by  Pliny  and  Quintilian  give 
us  only  the  most  general  statements  in  regard  to  the  style  of 
the  artists  of  whom  they  speak.  This  one  is  less  stiff  than  his 
predecessors ; that  one  shows  more  approach  to  nature ; a third 
is  the  first  to  pay  careful  attention  to  the  hair,  and  so  forth. 
But  Lucian  can  see  the  points  of  a statue,  and  his  criticisms  have 
a more  modern  air  than  those  of  other  writers.  He  will  praise 
the  outline  of  a cheek,  the  delicacy  of  taper  fingers,  the  fas- 
cination of  a smile.  If  only  he  had  left  us  treatises,  or  even 
pages,  instead  of  a few  sentences,  we  should  have  been  richer. 

Lucian  tells  us  that  the  art  of  statuary  was  hereditary  in 
his  family;  he  was  apprenticed  to  the  craft,  but  broke  away 
early ; one  can  imagine  that  his  tongue  would  render  him  ill 
to  live  with,  and  anything  but  docile  as  a pupil.  A good  ex- 
ample of  his  critical  talent  is  given  in  that  passage  in  his  Images 
in  which  Jie  tries  to  compose  an  ideal  beauty  by  putting  to- 
gether the  points  which  he  most  admires  in  celebrated  statues 
and  pictures.  He  begins  with  the  head  of  the  Cnidian  Aphro- 
dite of  Praxiteles,  observing  that  as  his  beautiful  lady  is  to  be 
draped  the  body  of  the  Cnidian  goddess  will  not  serve.  From 
Praxiteles  then  he  takes  the  hair  and  the  forehead,  and  the 
level  line  of  the  eyebrows,  as  well  as  the  character  of  the  eyes, 


II 


ANCIENT  CRITICS  ON  ART 


31 


the  bright  and  liquid  glance  of  which  is  full  of  charm.  For  the 
cheeks  and  the  outline  of  the  face  he  combines  the  Aphrodite 
of  the  Garden  by  Alcamenes  and  the  Lemnian  Athena  of 
Pheidias,  the  nose  especially  following  the  Pheidian  model. 
The  harmony  of  the  mouth  and  the  turn  of  the  neck  he  adopts 
from  the  Amazon  of  Pheidias;  the  wrists  and  hands  with 
tapering  fingers  from  the  Goddess  of  the  Garden.  The  expres- 
sion, a sweet  and  subtle  smile,  is  taken  from  the  Sosandra  of 
Calamis;  also  the  fashion  of  the  dress,  simple  and  modest, 
only  that  while  the  Sosandra  has  a veil  over  her  head,  the  new 
creation  is  to  be  bare-headed.  For  the  age  of  the  beauty 
Lucian  turns  again  to  the  Goddess  of  Cnidus,  who,  as  we  know, 
combined  maturity  of  form  with  the  freshness  of  youth. 

Then  it  occurs  to  the  critic  that  his  creation  after  ah  is  pale 
and  colourless;  so  he  turns  to  the  noted  paintings  of  great 
masters.  Most  of  the  noted  pictures  of  antiquity  represented 
but  a single  figure ; and  Lucian,  whether  he  had  seen  them  or 
not,  knows  them  well.  He  goes  to  Euphranor  to  paint  the 
hair  of  his  beauty  like  that  of  his  Hera ; while  Polygnotus  is 
called  in  to  give  colour  to  the  pencilled  line  of  the  eyebrows 
and  the  glowing  cheeks,  which  are  to  be  like  those  of  Cassandra 
in  the  painting  at  Delphi.  The  same  artist  is  to  paint  the 
drapery,  in  some  parts  severe,  in  others  more  flowing;  while 
Apelles  is  to  give  a delicate  flesh-tint,  to  show  the  blood  under 
the  skin  as  in  the  picture  of  Pacata ; 1 and  the  lips  are  to  be  as 
red  as  those  of  the  Roxana  of  Aetion. 

But  Lucian  goes  on  somewhat  to  mar  his  point  by  turning 
from  the  artists  to  the  poets.  Homer,  an  approved  judge  of 
the  beauty  of  women,  must  have  a share  in  the  ideal ; and  must 
be  ready  to  recognize  her  as  laughter-loving  and  white-armed 
and  rosy-fingered  like  golden  Aphrodite.  This  will  easily, 
I think,  be  arranged,  for  Homer,  with  the  optimism  of  the  true 

1 This  seems  to  be  the  concubine  of  Alexander,  elsewhere  called  Pancasta 
and  Campaspe. 


32 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  II 


poet,  finds  beauty  in  almost  every  woman  he  mentions.  Then 
the  critic  betrays  his  own  predilections ; for  he  grows  eloquent 
over  the  slightly  parted  lips  of  his  lady,  between  which  there 
shows  a line  of  teeth  so  even  and  so  white  that  you  might  take 
them  for  a string  of  well-matched  pearls.  Alas  ! by  this  time 
we  have  forgotten  the  severity  of  Calamis  and  the  majesty 
of  Pheidias,  and  have  sunk  to  the  level  of  daily  life.  The  lover 
has  overpowered  the  critic.  But  the  truth  is,  as  stated  above, 
that  art-criticism  requires  a reflective  and  self-conscious  atti- 
tude which  is  foreign  to  the  Greek  genius. 


CHAPTER  III 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 

In  dealing  with  the  principles  of  Greek  art,  it  is  necessary 
to  begin  with  architecture,  and  particularly  with  the  temple.1 
The  temple,  with  the  image  of  the  deity  which  it  enclosed,  was 
a unity,  including  the  best  results  of  all  the  arts  — architecture, 
sculpture,  painting,  music,  poetry.  An  examination  of  its 
character  takes  us  straight  to  the  heart  of  Greek  religion  and 
art,  and  indeed  of  Greek  civilization. 

Before  examining  the  purposes  and  the  structural  ideas  of 
the  temple,  it  may  be  well  to  speak  briefly  of  the  external 
conditions  under  which  it  was  evolved. 

Influence  of  country  and  race . In  the  construction  of  modern 
cities  and  of  great  buildings  little  influence  of  the  natural 
features  of  the  surrounding  landscape  is  to  be  observed.  In- 
deed nature  has  receded  and  man  is  predominant.  The  same 
thing  is  in  a great  degree  true  of  the  vast  palaces  and  temples 
of  Babylon  and  Egypt,  built  in  great  plains,  and  making,  as 
it  were,  a world  independent  of  them.  But  in  Greece  and  Asia 
Minor  nature  is  more  prominent  and  insistent ; the  whole  coun- 
try is  made  up  of  rugged  mountains  divided  by  narrow  valleys 

1 There  are  several  recent  works  on  Greek  architecture.  Anderson  and 
Spiers’  Greek  and  Roman  Architecture  gives  facts  rather  than  principles.  The 
great  German  works  of  Botticher,  Uhde,  Puchstein  and  others  are  for  specialists 
only.  The  best  books  for  the  general  student  are  Marquand,  Handbook  of  Greek 
Architecture;  Sturgis,  History  of  Architecture , Vol.  I.;  Vol.  VII.  of  Perrot  and 
Chipiez’  L' Art  dans  V Antiquite,  A.  Choisy’s  Histoire  de  V Architecture,  Vol.  I, 
and  E.  Boutmy’s  Philosophie  de  V Architecture  en  Grece.  The  last  is  in  its  way 
admirable ; full  of  brilliant  suggestions.  I am  greatly  indebted  to  it  in  this 
chapter. 


D 


33 


34 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


and  little  plains.  The  works  of  man  occupy  but  a small  space 
in  any  Greek  landscape.  And  the  Greek  himself,  with  won- 
derfully keen  senses  and  profound  appreciation  of  his  sur- 
roundings, would  be  instinctively,  if  not  consciously,  averse 
from  introducing  into  the  landscape  what  would  be  out  of 
harmony  with  its  lines.  Among  Swiss  mountains  to-day  .one 
may  notice  the  same  clear  adaptation  of  building  to  surround- 
ings ; the  chalet  almost  seems  a natural  feature  of  the  view. 
Any  one  who  has  visited  a partially  preserved  Greek  temple 
amid  its  natural  surroundings,  the  temple  at  Phigaleia,  those 
of  Paestum,  that  of  Segesta,  will  realize  how  fatal  it  would  be 
to  remove  these  buildings  into  a landscape  of  a different  kind. 
To  local  influences  are  largely  due  the  smallness  of  most  temples, 
the  rigid  lines  of  their  construction,  their  close  dependence 
upon  stone  and  marble  as  materials. 

Even  more  clearly  stamped  upon  all  Greek  buildings  than 
the  influence  of  place  is  the  influence  of  the  character  of  the 
Greek  race.  M.  Boutmy  has  emphasized  with  great  force  the 
fact  that  the  Greek  temple  could  only  have  arisen  among  a 
race  in  which  the  senses  were  extremely  acute  and  active,  and 
the  mind  of  a very  clear  and  logical  order.  It  is  a triumph  of 
the  senses  and  the  intellect,  in  every  part  inviting  close  examina- 
tion, and  in  every  part  showing  definite  purpose  and  design. 
When  we  examine  its  parts  in  detail,  we  find  the  principles  of 
reason  dominating  them  all.  Herein  again  we  may  contrast  it 
with  the  religious  buildings  of  the  Tigris  and  the  Nile,  where 
so  much  is  vague  and  suggestive,  so  much  traditional  and  in- 
stinctive. The  Greek  was  ever  predominantly  a rationalist 
and  an  observer. 

But  though  religion  in  Greece  did  not  take  the  same  domi- 
nant and  overpowering  position  which  it  took  in  the  great  em- 
pires of  the  East,  yet  the  Greek  of  early  times  was  in  his  way 
thoroughly  religious.  But  in  place  of  a vague  awe  in  the 
presence  of  the  unseen,  he  introduced  the  tendency  to  vividly 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


35 


personify  the  powers  of  nature,  to  make  them  objective  and 
definite  by  means  of  poetry,  of  art,  and  of  music.  The  aston- 
ishing humanity  which  prevails  in  the  Homeric  Olympus  is 
reflected  in  every  part  of  the  world  of  Greek  art.  As  time 
went  on  the  gods  were  moulded  ever  more  and  more  after  the 
fashion  of  a refined  and  beautified  humanity,  until  they  came 
too  near  to  the  human  level,  and  men  in  ceasing  to  look  up  to 
them  ceased  to  believe  in  them,  and  fell  back  upon  the  super- 
stition of  the  pre-Hellenic  ages  and  races,  or  upon  the  reasoned 
theism  of  the  philosophers.  The  whole  beauty  and  all  the 
history  of  Greek  art  belong  to  the  great  national  movement 
which  created  an  Olympus  remarkable  not  for  sublimity  and 
awfulness  but  for  human  interest  and  aesthetic  charm. 

The  temple  was  invented  or  grew  up  at  a time  when  the  gods 
had  been  thoroughly  humanized.  The  god,  or  his  accepted 
surrogate,  the  image,  dwelt  in  a temple  as  the  king  dwelt  in  his 
hall,  or  megaron , and  the  forms  of  the  temple  repeat,  in  the 
main,  but  in  an  enlarged  and  beautified  manner,  the  forms  of 
the  palace.  But  when  the  temple  arose,  it  is  quite  clear  that 
the  belief  in  the  gods  had  not  begun  to  decay,  that  there  was 
nothing  of  the  familiarity  akin  to  contempt  with  which  artists 
and  poets  in  the  fourth  century  treated  the  deities  of  Olympus. 
Never  would  vast  sums  have  been  expended,  and  infinite  pains 
taken,  to  provide  abodes  for  deities  who  were  not  regarded  as 
in  close  relations  with  man,  and  a present  help  in  times  of 
trouble.  The  rationalism  of  the  philosophers  and  the  spread 
of  Oriental  enthusiasms  in  time  destroyed  Greek  national  reli- 
gion ; but  the  process  was  a very  slow  one,  not  completed  even 
in  the  days  of  Alexander  the  Great.  And  with  religion,  art 
and  the  drama  and  literature  lowered  their  tone : only  phi- 
losophy and  science  raised  it. 

The  purposes  of  the  Greek  temple  may  be  easily  discerned 
from  the  study  of  its  plan ; but  besides,  those  purposes  are  em- 


36 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


phasized  by  all  the  details  of  the  construction  and  decoration. 
The  plan  is  of  extreme  simplicity.  The  building  usually  con- 
sisted of  three  parts,  of  which  by  far  the  most  important  was 
the  cella,  wherein  stood  the  statue  of  the  indwelling  deity, 
the  jewel  for  which  the  whole  temple  was  but  an  ornamented 
shrine  or  box.  In  the  fifth  csntury,  at  all  events,  the  size  and 
form  of  the  cella  were  carefully  planned  for  and  adapted  to  the 
display  of  this  image.  Smaller  chambers  in  front  and  behind, 


Scale  of  Metres  Scale  of  Feet 

o io  20  o 30  60 


Fig.  1.  — Plan  of  the  Parthenon.1 

the  pronaos  and  opisthodomos,  were  mostly  used  for  the  stor- 
age of  the  sacrificial  vessels  belonging  to  the  service  of  the 
deity  and  all  sorts  of  objects  of  value  which  were  dedicated  to 
him.  Sometimes,  in  addition,  the  temple  was  a treasury  for  the 
custody  of  money,  frequently  belonging,  as  at  Delos,  to  the 
landed  estate  of  the  god.  Outside  the  cella  with  its  depen- 
dencies were  porches  of  approach,  and  often  a corridor  sur- 
rounded by  pillars  running  all  round  the  edifice. 

These  simple  facts  will  at  once  emphasize  the  contrast  be- 
tween the  ancient  temple  and  the  modern  church,  though  the 
cathedrals  of  the  Roman  and  Byzantine  Churches  are  in  less 
marked  contrast  to  Greek  ways  of  thought  than  those  of  the 
1 By  Dorpfeld,  in  Athen.  Mittheil 1881,  Pi.  XII. 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


37 


Reformed  Churches.  To  the  Greeks  the  cella  was  primarily 
the  abode  of  the  deity : there  was  no  congregational  worship. 
The  festivals  and  processions  of  the  city  took  place  outside 
the  temples,  though  often  within  the  sacred  temenos,  or  enclo- 
sure. Those  who  entered  the  temple  came  usually  as  individ- 
uals, or  in  families,  to  make  some  offering  or  to  beseech  the 
favour  of  the  deity.  In  later  times  the  temple  was  little  but 
a museum  of  art  and  dedications.  But  in  the  earlier  ages  the 
very  presence  of  the  temple,  enshrining  the  national  deity,  was 
regarded  by  all  as  the  chief  pride  of  the  city,  and  its  guarantee 
against  foes  without  and  sedition  within.  The  chief  deity  of  each 
city  represented  that  city  in  embodied  ideal  form,  and  was  scarcely 
to  be  distinguished  from  the  personification  of  the  city  itself. 

Such  is  the  purpose,  the  informing  and  active  purpose,  which 
prompted  men  to  erect  temples,  and  to  erect  them  in  one  fash- 
ion rather  than  another.  But  in  this  case,  as  in  others,  we 
must  keep  apart  the  two  matters  of  the  purpose  or  final  cause 
of  the  temple  and  its  origins  or  historic  antecedents.  In 
treating  of  the  construction  and  decoration  of  the  buildings, 
this  distinction  is  essential,  and  it  has  often  been  overlooked. 
Thus  some  archaeologists  speak  as  if  all  the  features  of  the 
temple  could  be  derived  from  the  fact  that  it  was  originally 
copied  from  a dwelling-house,  and  of  wooden  construction. 
Others  are  disposed  to  treat  it  as  if  it  had  been  thought  out 
purposefully  in  stone,  and  every  detail  calculated  to  produce  a 
given  aesthetic  or  religious  impression.  The  true  way,  as  usual, 
is  the  via  media.  It  was  purpose  which  determined  the  de- 
tails of  the  construction,  but  that  purpose  often  only  existed 
in  unconscious  form,  as  a tendency.  And  the  tendency  could 
work  only  under  given  conditions,  and  in  the  direction  not  of  a 
fresh  creation,  but  of  an  adaptation  of  what  already  existed. 

Let  us  briefly  consider  in  this  light  the  character  of  the  temple 
as  a work  of  art.  It  was  adapted  to  satisfy  the  demands  of  the 
spectator,  whether  conscious  or  unconscious,  the  demands  of 


38 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


sense,  of  intelligence,  and  of  religious  emotion.  It  may  help  us 
if  we  have  at  the  same  time  in  our  minds  the  characteristics 
of  the  great  Christian  cathedrals  of  the  Middle  Ages.  The 
two  kinds  of  edifice  present  in  most  respects  a startling  contrast, 
a contrast  of  religions,  of  races,  of  mental  and  moral  tendencies. 
Both  may  be  said  to  belong  to  a past  which  is  no  longer  alive, 
but  is  yet  full  of  instruction  for  the  present.  For  my  own 
part  I have  no  doubt  that  the  church  is  a nobler  construction 
than  the  temple,  richer,  more  ethical,  more  imaginative.  But 
the  principles  of  both  enter  into  the  foundations  of  our  modern 
civilization ; and  if  we  neglected  or  despised  either  we  should 
inevitably  retrograde.  In  the  eighteenth  century  Gothic 
architecture  was  neglected  as  merely  barbarous;  at  present 
there  is  a danger  of  undervaluing  Greek  architecture : both 
tendencies  are  equally  disastrous. 

In  architecture  as  in  sculpture  the  Greek  eye  demanded 
symmetry,  or  beautiful  proportions,  and  rhythm,  or  a beautiful 
relation  of  part  to  part.  The  subject  of  the  proportions  of 
temples  is  a very  complicated  one.  No  two  buildings  are  quite 
alike  in  the  height  and  diameter  of  their  columns,  the  height 
of  the  architrave,  the  intercolumniations.  But  the  unit  of 
measurement  seems  to  have  been  the  diameter  of  the  column : 
the  dimensions  of  all  parts  were  worked  out  on  this  basis,  as  the 
proportions  of  the  human  body  were  worked  out  on  the  basis 
of  the  palm,  or  breadth  of  the  hand.  To  understand  these  pro- 
portions is  an  elaborate  matter.  It  seems  quite  certain  that 
the  ordinary  Greek  man  had  a far  keener  perception  than  we 
of  the  beauty  of  certain  relations  in  size,  of  the  value  of  a curve, 
of  the  suitability  of  an  angle.  And  his  eye  in  passing  from  part 
to  part  of  a building  demanded  balance,  looked  for  the  recurrence 
of  ornamental  forms  in  a regular  succession,  and  desiderated  in 
them  a beautiful  outline,  in  itself  poised  like  the  scales  of  a 
balance  about  a central  line.  We  are  reminded  of  the  fact 
that  Greek  athletes  did  their  exercises  to  the  sound  of  the 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


39 


flute,  and  that  men  sang  the  chorus  songs  in  tragedy  to  the 
rhythmical  motions  of  body  and  feet  in  dancing. 

It  is  the  acuteness  of  the  Greek  senses  which  led  to  a remark- 
able feature  of  architecture,  which  has  been  much  discussed, 
the  so-called  entasis . At  a distance  the  temples,  which  were 
usually  erected  on  some  lofty  and  conspicuous  site,  looked  like 
crystals;  and  Renan  has  spoken  of  the  Parthenon  as  “l’ideal 
crystallise  en  marble  Pentelique.”  But  when  we  examine  them 
closely,  we  find  that  the  lines  which  bound  them  are  not  rigid, 
nor  are  the  members  arranged  with  mechanical  exactness. 
Mr.  Penrose  first  fully  investigated  this  phenomenon  in  regard 
to  the  Parthenon,  and  the  observation  has  since  been  extended 
to  other  temples.  We  find  that  the  pillars  are  not  equidistant, 
that  the  lines  of  the  base  and  the  architrave  are  not  straight, 
that  the  metopes  are  not  of  exactly  the  same  size.  And  not 
only  are  the  pillars  of  varying  diameter  and  not  perfectly  up- 
right, but  their  diminution  from  base  to  summit  does  not  proceed 
regularly,  but  in  a subtle  curve. 

In  his  work  on  Ancient  Athens  Professor  Ernest  Gardner  gives 
an  excellent  summary  of  these  optical  corrections  in  the  Par- 
thenon from  which  I may  quote  a few  lines.1  “The  steps 
upon  which  the  building  rests  have  a convex  curve ; though  the 
total  rise  does  not  amount  to  more  than  four  inches  at  the  high- 
est point,  in  the  middle  of  each  side,  and  to  three  inches  at  the 
middle  of  the  front  and  back,  it  is  easily  perceptible  to  the  eye 
(Fig.  2)  if  seen  from  the  corner  of  the  building.”  “ The  architrave 
above  the  columns  has  a similar  curve,  though  it  is  not  now  so 
regular,  owing  probably  to  the  accidents  that  have  shattered 
the  building/’  “The  nicety  with  which  this  curve  had  to  be 
calculated  by  the  architect,  and  the  allowances  which  had  to  be 
made  for  it,  may  best  be  realized  by  an  examination  of  the  corner 
columns.  These  were  standing  upon  a bed  that  sloped  both 
ways,  and  the  necessary  corrections  are  effected  in  their  lowest 

i pp.  271-275. 


40 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


drums,  of  which  the  upper  surfaces  are  nearly  horizontal.” 
“The  axes  of  the  columns  themselves  are  not  exactly  vertical, 
but  incline  slightly  inward,  nearly  three  inches  in  their  total 
height  of  over  thirty-four  feet.”  “The  inward  slope  of  the  col- 
umns, and  the  slightly  pyramidal  shape  which  it  gives  to  the 
whole  temple,  gives  an  appearance  of  stability  which  would  be 
absent  if  all  the  columns  were  perfectly  vertical.”  “ The  entasis, 


Fig.  2.  — Sloping  lines  of  basis  of  Parthenon. 

or  gentle  swelling  of  the  shaft,  is  in  a single  harmonious  curve 
from  capital  to  base;  and  the  outline  of  the  echinus,  which  in 
earlier  Doric  columns  is  in  the  form  of  a rounded  bowl,  here 
approaches  so  nearly  to  a straight  line  that  at  first  sight  its 
curve  may  easily  be  overlooked  ; but  it  is  there,  and  its  presence 
gives  the  appearance  of  elasticity  which  we  miss  in  later  examples 
of  the  order.” 

The  lines  of  decorative  ornament,  which  we  can  best  study 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


41 


in  the  Erechtheum  at  Athens,  were  simple  and  perhaps  monot- 
onous. Alternate  flowers  and  buds  of  the  lotus,  the  palmette, 
the  egg  and  tongue  moulding,  simple  maeander  patterns,  recur 
repeatedly  from  temple  to  temple  and  from  period  to  period. 
But  in  the  best  age  the  mere  workmanship  has  such  distinction 
that  one  can  pick  out  in  a moment  a small  splinter  of  the 
Erechtheum  from  a heap  of  fragments  on  the  Acropolis,  and 
one  cannot  but  stand  astonished  at  its  exquisite  finish. 

Still  clearer  than  the  testimony  which  architectural  details 
bear  to  the  delicacy  of  the  senses  of  the  Greeks  is  the  testimony 
which  the  whole  scheme  of  the  temple  bears  to  the  clearness  and 
rationality  of  their  minds.  On  this  point  M.  Boutmy  dwells 
with  convincing  force.  He  observes  that  if  we  drew  an  out- 
line diagram,  marking  with  arrows  the  direction  of  the  strain, 
and  the  reasonable  order  of  considering  a temple,  we  should 
find  that  the  form  and  decoration  of  existing  temples  at  every 
point  correspond  with  those  arrows.  This  applies  especially  to 
the  Doric  style.  We  start  from  the  solid  basis  or  platform, 
laid  direct  upon  the  native  rock,  and  sloping  away  in  a few  steps 
which  run  all  round  the  edifice.  Only  at  the  front  and  back  are 
they  used  as  approaches;  but  the  massive  parallel  lines  of 
solid  masonry  give  an  unsurpassed  impression  of  stability. 
On  this  basis  is  set  in  the  midst  the  cella  or  chamber  where  the 
deity  dwells,  shut  off  by  walls  as  by  curtains  from  the  gaze  of 
the  people,  and  filled  with  the  rich  offerings  of  the  pious.  The 
walls  are  plain,  except  that  sometimes  at  the  top,  whether  out- 
side as  in  the  Parthenon,  or  inside  as  at  Phigaleia,  we  find  a 
narrow  frieze  which  resembles  the  border  of  a curtain.  Primarily 
these  walls  are  intended  not  to  support  but  to  divide;  no 
emphasis  is  laid  on  their  solidity.  In  the  larger  temples  this 
cella  is  surrounded  by  a continuous  line  of  solid  columns.  The 
spaces  between  them  admit  light  and  air,  and  by  partly  conceal- 
ing and  partly  revealing  the  building  within  they  emphasize 
its  sacred  character.  But  the  pillars  themselves  have  but  one 


42 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


function,  to  carry  a superstructure.  Their  whole  form  is  worked 
out  in  this  key.  Massive  and  close  together  they  rise  out  of  the 
ground ; they  have  not  even  a basis  to  delay  the  eye ; their  only 


Fig.  3.  — Anatomy  of  the  Parthenon. 

decoration  is  the  vertical  flutings  which  carry  the  sight  up  in 
grooves  towards  the  top,  where  we  find  capitals  of  very  simple 
swelling  form  mediating  between  the  upright  lines  of  the  pillars 
and  the  flat  and  massive  architrave  which  rests  horizontally 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


43 


upon  them.  This  architrave  is  quite  unadorned;  it  is  given 
wholly  to  business ; being  in  fact  in  its  turn  the  basis  of  the 
upper  mass  of  the  temple,  over  it  is  the  line  of  alternating 
triglyph  and  metope.  The  triglyphs  continue  the  lines  of  the 
columns;  their  vertical  grooves  correspond  to  the  flutings  of 
the  columns ; they  are  the  supports  of  cornice  and  roof.  Be- 
tween them  were  probably  at  an  early  time  open  spaces ; but 
later  the  spaces  were  filled  by  square  slabs  called  the  metopes, 
on  which  there  is  no  strain,  and  which  were  often  sculptured. 
At  the  front  and  back  of  the  temple  is  a triangular  gable  or 
pediment  which  again  is  a comparatively  otiose  member; 
and  a line  of  antefixes  in  terra-cotta  along  the  sides  gives  a 
finish  to  the  whole. 

We  have  hitherto  spoken  of  the  Doric  temple,  which  is  the 
most  characteristically  Greek  type.  The  Ionic  temple  does  not 
greatly  differ  in  scheme ; but  it  is  more  luxurious,  more  restful, 
less  rigid.  In  this  style  the  columns  have  a moulded  base,  and 
the  capital,  formed  by  volutes,  is  not  a mere  transitional  mem- 
ber, but  a thing  of  beauty  in  itself.  The  part  of  the  building 
above  the  columns  is  less  solid,  the  architrave  less  massive,  and 
divided  by  horizontal  lines,  while  the  most  striking  feature  of 
the  Doric  temple,  the  line  of  triglyphs  and  metopes,  is  wanting ; 
sometimes  we  find  in  its  place  a continuous  sculptured  frieze. 

The  decoration  of  the  members  of  the  temple  is  in  inverse 
proportion  to  their  usefulness  to  the  structure.  The  pillars 
are  very  simple.  The  lines  of  the  cornice  are  gently  emphasized 
by  courses  of  simple  decoration,  such  as  egg  and  tongue  mould- 
ings. Only  in  the  parts  of  the  building  which  have,  or  appear  to 
have,  no  structural  function,  the  pediments,  the  metopes,  the 
top  line  of  the  walls,  do  we  find  a free  hand  given  to  the  sculptor 
to  compose  groups  in  high  or  low  relief.  In  the  most  otiose 
part  of  the  whole  structure,  the  pediment,  we  sometimes  find 
figures  in  the  round.  But  even  where  the  hand  of  the  sculptor  is 
freest,  he  never  thinks  of  following  the  laws  of  his  own  art  with- 


44 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


out  regard  to  the  purposes  of  the  building  which  he  is  decorating. 
On  the  contrary,  he  makes  his  compositions,  both  in  line  and  in 
colouring,  suitable  to  the  structure.  He  works  in  high  relief  in 
the  metopes,  which  are  deeply  recessed,  in  low  relief  in  the  frieze, 
which  adorns  a flat  surface.  He  cultivates  extreme  simplicity, 
avoids  the  crossing  of  lines  and  of  shadows,  fills  his  space  in  such 
a way  that  there  are  no  blank  spaces.  In  speaking  of  sculpture 
we  shall  return  to  this  subject. 

When  we  examine  in  detail  even  the  simplest  architectural 
decoration,  we  discover  a similar  combination  of  care,  sense  of 
proportion,  and  reason.  The  flutings  of  an  Ionic  column  are 
not  in  section  mere  arcs  of  a circle,  but  made  up  of  a combination 
of  curves  which  produce  a beautiful  optical  effect ; the  lines  of 
decoration,  as  may  be  best  seen  in  the  case  of  the  Erechtheum, 
are  cut  with  a marvellous  delicacy.  Instead  of  trying  to  in- 
vent new  schemes,  the  mason  contents  himself  with  improving 
the  regular  patterns  until  they  approach  perfection,  and  he 
takes  everything  into  consideration.  Mouldings  on  the  outside 
of  a temple,  in  the  full  light  of  the  sun,  are  differently  planned 
from  those  in  the  diffused  light  of  the  interior.  Mouldings 
executed  in  soft  stone  are  far  less  fine  than  those  in  marble. 
The  mason  thinks  before  he  works,  and  while  he  works,  and 
thinks  in  entire  correspondence  with  his  surroundings. 

The  Greek  artistic  mind  is  in  some  respects  like  nature.  As 
nature  in  the  elaboration  of  species  seems  sometimes  to  make  a 
wrong  departure  and  to  produce  forms  unfitted  for  survival,  so 
the  Greek  architect  sometimes  violated  the  fitnesses  of  things 
and  took  a step  which  was  not  followed  up.  For  instance,  in  the 
archaic  temple  of  Artemis  at  Ephesus  the  lower  drums  of  the 
columns  were  adorned  with  reliefs  representing  human  beings  of 
about  the  size  of  life.  This  variation  may  probably  have 
arisen  from  the  early  custom  of  surrounding  the  pillars  of 
temples  when  they  were  made  of  wood  with  a coating  of  bronze 
plates ; and  as  these  plates  did  not  bear  any  actual  strain,  there 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


45 


was  no  definite  reason  against  their  adornment  with  reliefs. 
When  the  wooden  pillar  gave  way  to  stone,  the  reliefs  of  its 
bronze  covering  might  well  be  copied.  This  may  have  been  the 
turn  taken  by  events  at  Ephesus,  a turn  imitated  only  in  one  or 
two  other  great  temples,  and  definitely  set  aside  by  the  progress 
of  architecture.  In  the  same  way,  the  use  of  the  human  form 
as  a pillar  of  a porch,  which  is  familiar  to  us  from  the  Erechtheum, 
we  now  know  to  have  been  borrowed  from  early  Ionian  art, 
since  it  occurs  in  the  case  of  the  Cnidian  and  Siphnian  treasuries 
at  Delphi.  This  must  also  be  classed  as  an  aberration,  as  must 
the  doubled  line  of  frieze  on  the  entablature  of  the  archaic 
temple  at  Assos  in  the  Troad.  The  interesting  point  is  that 
the  vitality  of  architecture  made  it  set  aside  these  mistaken  de- 
partures and  come  back  to  the  better  line  of  development. 

All  the  parts  of  the  temple  may  be  considered  in  another 
light,  that  of  origin  and  derivation,  rather  than  in  that  of  reason 
and  idea.  In  regard  to  origins,  the  most  striking  fact  is  the 
double  derivation  of  the  temple,  and  the  marked  difference  in 
type  between  the  Doric  and  the  Ionic  varieties.  Both  show  a 
great  influence  of  wooden  construction;  but  while  the  Doric 
belongs  to  Greece  proper  and  seems  to  continue  the  line  of 
Mycenaean  structure,  the  Ionic  was  developed  on  the  coast  of 
Asia  Minor.  The  Corinthian  style  was  but  a variety  of  the 
Ionic,  late  in  use,  but  going  back  to  a not  late  type,  perhaps 
originating,  as  M.  Choisy  thinks,  in  columns  adorned  at  the  top 
with  metal  decoration.  Vitruvius  speaks  of  the  Doric  style, 
with  its  massive  simplicity,  as  essentially  male,  and  of  the  slim- 
mer and  more  highly  decorated  Ionic  as  in  character  female. 
M.  Choisy  has  acutely  traced  many  of  the  peculiarities  of  Ionic 
architecture  to  the  smallness  of  the  wooden  beams  used  in  its 
early  efforts,  whereas  the  Dorians,  dwelling  in  a better  wooded 
country,  used  from  the  first  more  massive  beams.  Another 
characteristic  difference  between  the  styles  is  that  the  Dorian 
architect  was  content  with  painted  bands  of  decoration ; the 


46 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Ionian  architect,  more  ornament-loving  and  luxurious,  worked 
out  the  lines  of  decoration  in  relief. 

Side  by  side,  with  only  a moderate  amount  of  interaction,  the 
two  styles  develop.  And  so  regular  and  uniform  is  their 


A B 

Fig.  4. — Doric,  Ionic  and  Corinthian  columns. 


c 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


47 


development,  that  with  the  help  of  a few  temples  of  known 
date  to  serve  as  fixed  points,  it  is  possible  to  tell  the  period  of 
a Doric  or  an  Ionic  temple  within  no  wide  limits.  When  tem- 
ples are  repaired,  the  repairs,  as  in  the  case  of  English  cathe- 
drals, are  in  the  style  of  the  time  in  which  they  took  place. 

We  may  observe  how  the  Doric  capital  not  only  marks  a 
transition  from  upright  lines  to  horizontal,  but  also  preserves 
the  form  of  the  wooden  capital  in  the  Mycenaean  palace ; how 
the  triglyphs  are  descended  from  upright  beams,  and  the 
metopes  which  they  separate  were  originally  open  windows. 
We  may  trace  the  gable  form  of  the  roof  to  wooden  construc- 
tion, as  opposed  to  the  flat  roof  of  clay  which  is  still  common 
in  western  Asia.  No  one,  of  course,  would  suppose  that  reason 
and  idea  can  find  expression  in  a building,  save  by  using  exist- 
ing materials  of  construction  or  adapting  recognized  ways  of 
building  to  new  materials.  Slowly,  age  by  age,  the  idea  more 
fully  penetrates  the  material,  and  uses  it  more  freely  to  express 
itself.  And  in  some  particulars  reason  seems  never  to  have 
fully  mastered  the  material.  For  example,  in  regard  to  the 
lighting  of  the  temple,  we  are  at  present  unable  to  see  how  it  was 
satisfactorily  accomplished.  The  Greeks  rejected  the  system 
of  lighting  by  leaving  spaces  between  the  triglyphs,  which 
seems  the  natural  plan.  They  rejected,  in  the  majority  of  their 
great  temples,  the  system  of  hypaethral  lighting  by  leaving  an 
open  space  in  the  midst  of  the  roof.  Whether  they  thought 
that  the  light  which  came  in  at  the  open  door  was  sufficient, 
whether  they  had  some  system  of  basilican  lighting,  or  whether 
they  admitted  light  through  semi-transparent  roofing  slabs  of 
marble,  is  at  present  doubtful. 

In  the  colouring  of  their  temples  the  Greeks  undoubtedly 
used  paint  which  we  should  call  glaring,  and  tolerated  juxta- 
positions which  would  offend  our  eyes.  Their  principle,  indeed, 
was  not  to  colour  large  surfaces  with  an  even  wash  of  paint, 
but  to  pick  out  in  colour  borders  and  small  members  of  archi- 


48 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


tecture,  as  well  as  spaces  which  served  as  a background  to 
sculpture.  But  even  allowing  for  this,  we  should  call  their 
colouring  harsh.1  It  would  seem  that  the  modern  eye  is  as 
much  more  sensitive  than  the  Greek  in  the  matter  of  colour 
as  the  Greek  eye  was  more  sensitive  than  the  modern  in  mat- 
ters of  form.  But  we  must  remember  that  races  used  to  a 
bright  sun  and  a clear  light  can  endure  far  more  vivid  colour- 
ing than  peoples  who  dwell  amid  comparative  darkness.  And 
the  Greek  senses,  though  keen,  were  fresher  and  less  wearied 
than  ours.  Even  now  peoples  who  live  simply  in  the  presence 
of  nature  have  not  the  same  love  as  the  educated  for  half- 
tones and  gentle  transitions.  Nor,  in  fact,  has  nature. 

M.  Boutmy  has  well  pointed  out  that,  in  architecture,  as  in 
other  fields  of  activity,  the  Greeks  had  the  defects  of  their 
qualities.  Their  forte  was  fine  sense  and  straight  reasoning; 
but  these  qualities  often  passed  into  the  excess  of  delight  in 
merely  perfect  technique  and  a desire  to  reduce  everything  to 
logical  schemes.  We  see  the  working  of  the  last-named  ten- 
dency in  the  rigid  classification  of  temples  by  the  orders  as 
Doric,  Ionic  and  Corinthian.  In  earlier  temples,  such  as  those 
at  Paestum  and  Agrigentum,  the  architect  has  a freer  hand. 
But  as  time  went  on,  rule  became  stricter.  The  three  styles 
are  properly  styles  of  pillars ; but  the  Greeks  could  not  resist 
the  tendency  to  reduce  all  architecture,  so  to  speak,  to  the  key 
of  the  kind  of  pillar  used.  Thus  it  comes  about  that  in  the 
great  age  it  is  possible,  if  one  has,  in  addition  to  the  ground 
plan  of  a temple,  a few  small  fragments  of  its  architecture,  to 
restore  the  whole,  within  narrow  limits,  with  certainty.  One 
sees  how  this  excess  of  schematism  and  regularity  must  have 
strangled  all  vigour  and  originality  of  design. 

An  American  archaeologist,  Mr.  Goodyear,  has  argued  that 

1 See  Baumeister’s  Denkmaler , art.  “ Polychromie,”  or  the  plates  at  the  end 
of  the  second  volume  of  Olympia.  The  terra-cotta  decoration  of  temples  has 
preserved  its  colours,  but  the  painting  of  stone  and  marble  now  exists  only  in 
the  shape  of  vestiges. 


Ill 


THE  GREEK  TEMPLE 


49 


optical  corrections  like  those  to  be  observed  in  the  Parthenon 
are  to  be  traced  in  St.  Sophia  at  Constantinople,  St.  Mark’s  at 
Venice,  Notre  Dame  at  Paris,  and  many  other  of  the  greatest  of 
mediaeval  buildings.  Mr.  Goodyear  is  disposed  to  think  that 
there  was  a continuous  tradition  downward  from  classical  times ; 
but  it  is  perhaps  safer  to  see  the  working  of  a similar  spirit  in 
great  ancient  and  mediaeval  buildings,  before  the  objective 
spirit  of  modern  science  dominated  architecture,  and  the  pur- 
poses aimed  at  in  buildings  became  more  clearly  conscious. 
This  manner  in  construction  may  be  not  unfairly  compared 
to  the  rhetorical  manner  which  prevails  in  Greek  literature,  in 
history  and  philosophy  as  well  as  in  oratory  and  poetry,  and 
which  also  was  one  of  the  bequests  of  the  ancient  to  the  mediae- 
val world.  The  Greek  artist,  like  the  Greek  writer,  aimed  not 
at  rigid  adherence  to  the  truth,  but  at  producing  a certain  effect 
on  human  beings.  This  is  at  once  his  weakness  and  his  strength. 
It  is  his  weakness  when  he  passes  from  rhetoric  to  sophistic, 
flatters  the  weaknesses,  and  uses  the  follies,  of  mankind  to  win 
his  own  way.  But  it  is  his  strength  when  he  builds  on  a broad 
and  solid  basis  of  human  nature  which  is  universal  and  per- 
manent. For  the  world  and  nature  only  exist  for  man  as  they 
are  reflected  in  the  human  mind ; and  to  recognize  this  fact 
is  the  first  law  of  art  as  of  all  practical  pursuits  in  the  world. 

In  the  third  point  of  view,  as  a satisfaction  to  the  emotions 
and  the  religious  needs  of  mankind,  it  must  be  confessed  that 
the  Greek  temple  was  by  no  means  the  peer  of  the  Christian 
cathedral.  A mystical  temperament  could  not  but  be  chilled 
by  its  bright  intellectualism.  There  is  in  it  nothing  of  the  dim 
religious  light  due  to  stained  windows.  There  are  no  soaring 
heights  which  seem  to  bring  heaven  nearer.  As  the  mediae- 
val organ  was  superior  to  the  Greek  lyre  and  flutes,  so  the 
spiritual  nature  of  man  would  usually  find  more  satisfaction 
in  mediaeval  richness  and  complexity  than  in  Greek  direct- 
ness. But  we  must  not  on  that  account  overlook  the  great 


50 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  Ill 


qualities  of  the  Greek  construction.  Human  nature  is  a vast 
thing  of  varied  possibilities,  and  succeeding  ages  make  the 
work  of  this  people  and  period  or  of  that  the  most  important 
for  progress.  We  must  remember  that  our  ancestors  of  the 
seventeenth  century  considered  a whitewashed  barn  a more 
suitable  house  of  prayer  than  a gorgeous  cathedral.  And  the 
Gothic  cathedral,  though  it  embodied  the  religion  of  the 
northern  races,  was  never  appreciated  by  the  ruling  powers 
of  the  Roman  Church.  The  age  of  Napoleon  attempted  in  the 
Madeleine  to  adapt  the  forms  of  the  Greek  temple  to  Christian 
worship.  And  though  the  Madeleine  and  other  attempts  of 
the  kind  cannot  be  called  successful,  it  would  be  rash  to  say  that 
when  architecture  once  more  succeeds  in  living  fashion  to  pro- 
duce a building  really  consonant  with  the  religion  of  the 
twentieth  century,  such  a building  will  owe  nothing  to  the 
Parthenon. 


CHAPTER  IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 

We  naturally  and  almost  necessarily  derive  our  notions  of 
Gre.ek  architecture  from  the  Temple,  for  the  temples  are  by 
far  the  most  important  and  interesting  buildings  which  have 
come  down  to  us.  In  just  the  same  way  we  derive  our  knowl- 
edge of  Gothic  art  from  the  cathedrals  and  churches  which  were 
so  abundant  and  so  stately,  and  which  have  survived  the  contem- 
porary secular  buildings,  as  religious  ideas,  beliefs  and  in- 
stitutions are  always  more  durable  than  those  which  serve  only 
the  secular  needs  of  every  day.  But  in  the  case  of  both  an- 
cient Greece  and  mediaeval  Europe,  religious  architecture  and 
secular  architecture  really  exhibited  the  same  principles  and 
were  developed  on  similar  plans.  We  have  still  among  us  the 
ruins  of  mediaeval  castles.  And  some  Greek  buildings  of  secu- 
lar character  still  survive  in  mutilated  form.  A notable  ex- 
ample may  be  found  in  the  Propylaea  of  the  Athenian  Acropolis, 
which  served  as  a magnificent  porch  at  the  gate  of  the  sacred 
place  of  Athena,  and  as  a picture-gallery,  but  was  not  closely 
related  to  religion.  Another  building,  perhaps  of  non-religious 
character,  which  surprises  us  by  its  beauty,  is  the  circular 
tholos  at  Epidaurus.  One  of  the  so-called  temples  of  Paestum, 
having  in  front  an  uneven  number  of  columns,  and  so  deviating 
from  the  fixed  form  of  the  temple,  may  not  have  been  an  abode 
of  the  gods.  These  buildings,  however,  are  so  similar  to  temples 
in  construction  and  decoration  that  they  do  not  require  a 
separate  discussion. 

More  distinctive  are  the  military  works  of  the  Greeks  and 
their  theatres. 


51 


52 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Of  several  Greek  cities,  notably  of  Messene,  a great  part  of 
the  circuit  of  the  walls,  with  the  towers  set  at  intervals  to 
strengthen  the  walls,  and  to  provide  nucleus-points  for  defence, 
still  remains  standing.  At  Syracuse  we  can  trace  at  least  the 
plan  of  the  great  fortress  of  Euryelus,  built  by  Dionysius  at  the 
most  assailable  point  of  his  wall  of  circumvallation.  These, 
however,  were  military  constructions  intended  solely  for  prac- 
tical ends.  The  impression  produced  by  them,  especially  at 
Messene,  is  very  noble  and  harmonious.  But  the  good  taste  of 
the  Greeks  preserved  them  from  any  attempt  at  beautifying  by 
sculptural  decoration  fortifications  which  could  only  be  con- 
nected in  the  mind  with  hostile  attack  and  fierce  sortie. 

More  nearly  related  to  the  gentle  and  pleasurable  side  of  life 
were  the  theatres.  In  recent  days,  partly  in  consequence  of  the 
interest  aroused  by  the  question  whether  or  not  the  Greek 
theatre  had  a raised  stage,  the  theatres  on  a multitude  of  Greek 
sites,  at  Athens,  Epidaurus,  Megalopolis,  Oropus,  Ephesus, 
Pergamon  and  a host  of  other  cities,  have  been  carefully  ex- 
cavated. Here  again  the  beauty  of  form,  especially  in  the  case 
of  the  exquisite  theatre  of  Epidaurus,  is  a matter  for  wonder. 
The  slope  of  a hill  is  so  used  as  to  diminish  to  the  utmost  extent 
the  labour  of  construction ; the  arrangement  of  the  seats  and 
the  construction  of  the  stage-buildings  combine  in  the  highest 
degree  simplicity  and  practical  convenience.  But  in  theatres 
no  less  than  in  fortresses  artistic  adornment  would  have  been 
felt  to  be  out  of  place.  The  theatres  were  dedicated  to  an  art, 
but  it  was  the  art  of  play-acting,  and  any  use  of  plastic  art 
which  could  in  any  way  interfere  with  or  come  into  competition 
with  that  special  function  would  have  been  worse  than  out  of 
place.  A few  statues  of  great  playwriters  decorated  the  audi- 
torium of  the  Athenian  theatre  of  Dionysus  from  the  fourth 
century  b.c.  onwards.  The  reliefs  which  at  present  occupy 
there  the  front  of  the  stage  date  only  from  the  Roman  age,  and 
were  so  little  regarded  that  when  a subsequent  fashion  reduced 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


53 


the  height  of  the  stage,  the  heads  of  the  figures  in  relief  were 
remorselessly  cut  off.  The  front  of  the  stage  in  other  theatres 
was  only  adorned  with  columns  at  intervals. 

Of  the  dwelling-houses  we  have  only  ground  plans,  save  at 
Pompeii  and  a few  other  places  accidentally  preserved  from 
the  ravages  of  time.  The  street  facades  were  always  of  the 
simplest  kind  possible.  Not  only  would  an  elaborate  frontage 
savour  of  overweening  pride,  almost  of  impiety,  but  in  the 
frequent  faction  fights  and  insurrections  they  would  mark  the 
houses  to  which  they  belonged  as  objects  for  attack.  Luxury 
was  reserved  for  the  interior,  which  was  shown  only  to  friends 
and  visitors.  In  the  early  age  of  Greece  even  interiors  were 
plain ; art  worked  in  the  service  of  the  Gods  rather  than  in 
that  of  the  wealthy.  Alcibiades,  the  leader  of  fashion  and 
corrupter  of  the  primitive  simplicity  of  manners,  set  the  ex- 
ample of  having  the  walls  of  his  rooms  painted  by  Agatharchus, 
one  of  the  most  noted  painters  of  his  day.  But  the  fashion 
spread  very  slowly;  and  the  evidence  of  Pompeii  indicates 
that  even  in  the  third  century  the  usual  adornment  of  wealthy 
houses  was  rather  by  inlay  of  slabs  of  variegated  marble  than 
by  painting  or  sculpture.  This  rule  of  simplicity  did  not  ex- 
tend to  the  utensils  used.  Vases  in  precious  metal  or  in  pottery, 
chairs  and  couches,  hangings  and  coverlets,  were  doubtless  of 
great  beauty.  But  the  great  art  of  Greece  belonged  to  the 
temple  and  the  market-place,  the  public  picture-gallery  and  the 
council-house ; not  to  mere  individuals,  however  well  they  were 
prepared  to  pay  for  it. 

After  Alexander,  with  the  growth  of  private  fortunes  and 
the  spread  of  individualism,  the  state  of  public  opinion  in  all 
these  matters  underwent  a gradual  change.  Of  the  Hellenistic 
age,  however,  I do  not  treat  in  the  present  volume. 

Scarcely  less  important  than  the  temple  to  the  student  of 
Greek  art  is  the  Greek  Tomb.  Temple  and  tomb  have  a com- 


54 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


mon  origin  in  the  dwelling-house  of  early  times.  Nor  was 
there  any  strong  line  of  separation  between  the  abode  of  one 
of  the  patron  gods  of  a city,  and  the  resting-place  of  a hero 
who  was  venerated  by  a community,  a clan  or  a family.  Some 
buildings,  indeed,  such  as  the  beautiful  Nereid  monument  of 
the  British  Museum,  while  possessing  most  of  the  architectural 
features  of  a temple,  were  really  tombs,  erected  over  the  ashes 
of  distinguished  rulers.1 

It  is  a difficult  question  in  what  degree  the  accepted  religion 
of  Greece,  the  national  Pantheon,  arose  out  of  fetichism  and 
in  what  degree  out  of  that  ghost-worship  which  we  find  among 
all  peoples  at  a low  level  of  culture.  The  probability  is  that 
some  of  the  deities,  notably  Dionysus,  were  more  closely  con- 
nected with  the  worship  of  the  dead  than  those  radiant  per- 
sonalities, such  as  Apollo  and  Athena,  which  seem  to  belong 
almost  entirely  to  the  sphere  of  heaven,  and  to  be  free  from 
shadows  of  the  underworld.  This,  however,  is  a speculation 
into  which  we  cannot  here  enter.  What  is  certain  is  that  not 
only  in  the  misty  dawn  of  Hellenic  history,  but  also  in  the  times 
of  greatest  intellectual  and  artistic  perfection,  the  dead  were 
thought  of  as  by  no  means  removed  from  communication  with 
the  living.  The  pages  of  Pausaiiias  abundantly  testify  to  the 
veneration  paid  in  all  parts  of  Greece  at  the  tombs  of  those  to 
whom  the  gratitude  of  the  living  was  due  for  notable  achieve- 
ment or  beneficent  invention.  In  Sparta,  as  we  should  expect 
of  the  most  conservative  of  Greek  cities,  the  hero-ancestor  was 
always  present  to  the  minds  of  the  citizens,  whether  in  war  or 
peace.  Castor  and  Pollux,  Menelaus  and  Helen,  Lycurgus 
and  the  originators  of  great  families,  took  part  in  all  the  affairs 
of  the  State.  Even  at  Athens,  comparatively  progressive  and 
more  disposed  to  the  enjoyment  of  the  present  than  to  dwelling 
on  past  or  future,  some  festivals,  notably  the  Anthesteria  and 

1 Books  relating  to  the  art  of  the  tomb  are  : P.  Gardner,  Sculptured  Tombs 
of  Hellas;  M.  Collignon,  Statues  funer air es  dans  V Art  grecque. 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


55 


Genesia,  were  commemorative  of  the  departed,  and  every  clan 
and  every  family  at  certain  seasons  held  solemn  feasts  of  com- 
munion between  the  dead  and  the  living. 

Thus  the  veneration  for  the  dead,  and  the  worship  offered  at 
the  tomb,  were  important  influences  in  the  development  of 
Greek  civilization.  We  have  to  see  in  what  ways  they  found 
a manifestation  in  Hellenic  architecture  and  sculpture.  The 
sculptural  adornment  of  the  sarcophagus  or  coffin,  which  was 
a prominent  motive  in  Egyptian  art,  and  in  that  of  Syria  and 
Lycia,  was  in  Greece  very  rare.  But  in  other  directions  the 
artistic  sense  of  the  Greeks  occupied  itself  freely  with  com- 
memoration of  the  dead. 

I will  treat  successively,  though  of  necessity  briefly,  of  the 
influence  of  ancestor-worship  on  architecture,  sculpture  and 
painting. 

I have  observed  that  the  great  tombs  of  Greece  followed  in 
the  main  the  same  architectural  ways  as  the  temples.  There 
was,  however,  in  the  general  forms  of  the  two  classes  of  monu- 
ments one  marked  difference.  The  temple  rested  upon  the 
ground,  or  rather  on  a low  platform  approached  by  a short 
flight  of  steps.  With  a few  exceptions,  such  as  the  temple  of 
Apollo  at  Miletus,  there  do  not  appear  to  be  any  underground 
cellars.  Even  at  Delphi,  where  the  excavators  had  naturally 
expected  to  find  some  secret  cavern,  none  existed.  In  the  tomb, 
on  the  other  hand,  any  building  of  temple-like  construction  was 
really  subordinate  to  the  abode  of  the  body  of  the  deceased. 
Thus  such  heroa  as  the  Mausoleum,  the  Nereid  tomb  in  the 
British  Museum,  and  the  monument  surmounted  by  a huge 
lion  at  Cnidus,  erected  by  Conon  the  Athenian  after  his  victory 
there,  were  all  composed  of  two  parts,  a solid  structure  enclosing 
the  tomb  itself,  and  an  erection  on  the  top  of  this  made  into  an 
artistic  memorial  of  the  dead,  and  probably  in  some  cases  used 
as  the  place  for  the  ceremonies  of  their  cultus. 


56 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


It  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  the 
Greek  tomb  to  the  student  of  ancient  life  and  art.  The  tomb 
did  not  indeed  occupy  the  care  and  thought  of  the  Greeks  to 
the  same  degree  that  it  did  those  of  the  Egyptians.  In  that  old 
world  empire  the  tomb,  as  the  eternal  abode,  seems  to  have 
overshadowed  all  the  events  and  purposes  of  the  brief  terrestrial 
life.  Every  man  of  position  and  wealth  seems  to  have  made  it 
one  of  the  chief  purposes  of  his  life  to  secure  an  ample  and  un- 
disturbed place  of  perpetual  rest,  prepared  during  his  life,  and 
commended  to  the  care  of  his  heirs,  until  the  whole  country 
became  a continuous  cemetery,  and  the  dead  elbowed  the  living 
out  of  whole  tracts  of  country,  and  withdrew  from  use  a con- 
siderable proportion  of  the  wealth  of  the  community,  or  would 
have  done  so,  but  for  the  perpetual  inroads  of  the  tomb-breakers. 
In  Greece,  in  this  matter  as  in  all  others,  the  strong  practical 
sense  of  the  people  preserved  moderation,  and  prevented  ex- 
treme encroachment  by  the  dead  hand.  But  the  archaeological 
record,  though  less  rich  and  full  than  in  Egypt,  runs  on  from, 
first  to  last  in  the  graves ; and  preserves  a contemporary  record 
of  art  in  all  its  branches  from  the  statue  down  to  the  sherds  of 
pottery  and  the  work  of  the  goldsmith  and  the  maker  of  bronze 
utensils. 

The  rich  and  varied  finds  made  by  Schliemann  at  Mycenae, 
and  by  many  other  excavators  in  various  parts  of  Hellas,  have 
shown  us  how  splendidly  the  wealthy  nobles  of  the  Mycenaean 
Age  furnished  the  tombs  of  their  heroes.  With  the  coming  in 
from  the  north  of  a comparatively  poor  and  barbarous  race, 
destined  to  be,  when  mingled  with  the  native  inhabitants,  the 
ancestors  of  the  Greeks  of  history,  the  graves  completely  change 
their  character.  The  backward  state  of  the  arts  among  the 
new  immigrants  is  indicated  by  the  rudeness  of  the  terra-cotta 
idols  which  they  buried  with  the  dead,  and  the  barbarous  help- 
lessness of  the  pottery  and  bronze  ornaments  which  were  stored 
for  their  use.  Later  on,  when  art  gradually  revived,  and  pri- 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


57 


vate  life  became  more  wealthy  and  luxurious,  it  never  became 
the  custom,  as  it  had  been  in  Mycenaean  times,  to  furnish  the 
grave  as  the  palaces  of  the  kings  were  furnished.  We  do  not 
find  in  Greece  as  in  Etruria,  and  in  some  degree  in  Sicily,  great 
receptacles  filled  with  the  finest  products  of  the  potteries  of 
Athens,  and  gold  jewellery  of  most  elaborate  work.  Certain 
classes  of  vases,  such  as  the  painted  lekythi  and  unguent- 
vessels,  are  found  in  great  numbers.  Particularly  rich  in  these 
charming  little  vases  are  the  tombs  opened  in  Euboea.  But, 
generally  speaking,  the  contents  of  the  Greek  tomb  serve  rather 
to  date  them  and  to  throw  light  on  funeral  customs  than  to 
enrich  our  museums  with  marvels  of  delicate  workmanship. 

As  a compensation,  the  sculpture  of  the  tomb  has  come  down 
to  us  in  great  plenty.  The  greater  part  of  the  National  Museum 
at  Athens  is  occupied  with  funereal  sculpture,  which  interests 
and  attracts  all  visitors  in  a notable  degree.  The  smaller 
museums  of  Thebes,  Sparta  and  other  places  owe  their  dis- 
tinctive character  to  the  same  class  of  monuments. 

Most  primitive  in  idea,  though  not  always  in  date,  are  the 
reliefs  on  which  the  deceased  ancestor  is  seated  in  state  to  re- 
ceive the  offerings  of  his  descendants,  who,  in  fact,  are  some- 
times represented,  on  a smaller  scale,  as  approaching  him  with 
their  gifts.  Beside  the  ancestor,  on  some  of  the  Spartan 
monuments,  sits  his  wife  as  equal  partaker  of  the  offerings,  — a 
pleasing  indication  of  the  honour  in  which  women  were  held  in 
Sparta,  not  merely  for  their  own  sake,  but  as  mothers  of  the 
future  race  of  citizens  and  warriors.  The  snake,  the  compan- 
ion and  friend  of  the  dead,  stands  erect  behind  the  pair.  On 
others  of  the  Spartan  reliefs  appear  figures  of  the  horse  and  the 
dog,  who  had  served  their  master  well  during  his  life,  and  per- 
haps accompanied  him  to  the  world  of  shades.  These  reliefs, 
the  work  of  a race  never  noted  for  artistic  talent,  are  interesting 
from  the  point  of  view  of  technique ; the  marble  is  cut  in  several 
distinct  planes,  like  an  onyx ; and  the  fact  is  notable  that  every 


58 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


feature  and  limb  is  represented  either  in  a fully  frontal  or  in  a 
completely  profile  aspect,  a system  of  which  I shall  speak  in 
more  detail  hereafter.  But  the  subject  is  still  more  interesting ; 


these  reliefs  were  no  mere  adornments  of  the  tomb,  but  monu- 
ments of  family  worship,  marking  the  place  where  the  ghosts 
actually  awaited  the  tribute  of  their  descendants. 

In  another  class  of  reliefs  also  connected  with  the  veneration 
of  heroes,  and  found  mostly  in  districts  of  North  Greece,  such  as 
Thessaly  and  Boeotia,  still  greater  prominence  is  given  to  the 

1 Gardner,  Sculptured  Tombs  of  Hellas , PL  II. 


Fig.  5. — Spartan  hero  and  his  wife.1 


IV  THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB  59 

horse.  In  all  European  countries  the  possession  of  horses  has 
been  the  mark  of  an  aristocratic  or  knightly  caste;  and  in 
Greek  religion  it  belonged  notably  to  those  leaders  in  war  who 
had  become  demigods  or  heroes,  who  had  been,  so  to  speak, 
canonized  by  popular  belief  and  trust.  In  the  reliefs  of  which 
I speak,  the  hero  rides  or  leads  his  horse,  and  is  often  greeted  by  a 
lady  of  more  than  human  stature  who  pours  wine  for  him,  a 
lady  who  in  this  case  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  his  wife,  but 
must  rather  be  an  emblem  of  his  reception  into  the  abodes  of 
the  immortals,  as  Hebe  received  the  deified  Heracles. 


Fig.  6.  — Horseman  relief  : British  Museum.1 

A class  of  reliefs  which  belongs  to  a much  later  time  repre- 
sents the  deceased  as  reclining  on  a couch,  and  being  plied  with 
food  and  drink  by  votaries.  This  seems  to  indicate  a revival 
rather  than  a survival  in  later  Greece  of  the  ancestor-worship 
which  had  in  the  period  of  highest  idealism  passed  into  the  back- 
ground, and  been  overshadowed  by  the  bright  religion  of  Olyin- 


1 Sculptured  Tombs , p.  96. 


60 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


pus.  The  great  abundance  and  wide  distribution  of  these 
monuments  is  an  important  fact  in  religious  history,  one  among 
many  facts  which  show  how,  towards  the  beginning  of  the 
Christian  era,  old  world  beliefs  were  reasserting  themselves  with 
the  decay  of  what  may  be  called  the  established  or  orthodox 
pantheon,  the  community  of  deities  which  still  lives  for  us  in 
the  Homeric  poems,  and  in  the  splendid  works  of  literary  and 
plastic  art,  which  can  only  fall  into  neglect  when  modern 
civilization  is  suffocated  by  materialism,  or  tries  to  forget  what 
is  most  noteworthy  in  the  past  history  of  Europe. 


Fig.  7.  — Reclining  hero,  with  worshipper  : Athens. 


Let  us  turn  to  Athens,  where,  of  course,  the  forces  which  have 
made  the  art  of  Greece  immortal  had  fullest  play,  and  trace 
there  the  working  of  the  motives  and  ideas  which  informed  the 
sculpture  of  the  tomb.  Our  knowledge  in  this  province  is 
greatly  furthered  by  a very  fortunate  accident,  which  has  pre- 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


61 


served  for  us,  almost  uninjured,  a great  part  of  the  important 
cemetery  which  lay  just  outside  the  gates  of  the  city  on  the 
sacred  road  which  led  to  Eleusis.  On  some  occasion,  which  we 
cannot  with  certainty  identify,  the  Athenians  covered  with  a 
deep  layer  of  earth  the  surface  of  this  cemetery ; and  the  mon- 
uments which  it  contained  in  their  orderly  arrangement  lay 
hidden,  and  so  escaped  the  devastation  of  Sulla  and  all  the 
other  calamities  which  have  by  degrees  destroyed  so  much  of 
the  beauty  and  glory  which  once  adorned  the  splendid  city. 
Only  the  spade  of  the  explorer  has  in  the  last  half-century  grad- 
ually brought  again  to  the  light  of  day  the  tombs  which  date 
from  the  earliest  to  the  later  period  of  Athenian  history.1 

Of  all  the  light  thrown  by  the  excavations  of  this  cemetery 
on  the  religious  and  social  customs  of  the  Athenians,  this  is  not 
the  place  to  speak.  But  we  may  well  dwell  for  a short  time  on 
the  vistas  which  it  affords  us  of  their  artistic  surroundings. 
Following  the  custom  which  is  familiar  to  us  from  mentions  in 
the  Homeric  poems,  the  wealthy  Athenians  of  the  earlier  age  of 
the  city  erected  over  the  remains  of  their  dead  what  they  called 
a tu/x/3o?  or  a mound  of  earth.  This,  however,  as 

was  natural  in  an  age  when  democracy  was  growing,  and  when 
the  leading  men  were  no  longer  heaven-descended  kings,  but 
merely  prominent  citizens,  became  at  a later  time  more  moder- 
ate in  scale.  We  find  no  longer  great  tumuli  such  as  exist  in 
the  Troad  and  Etruria,  nor  conical  underground  buildings, 
such  as  the  so-called  tomb  of  Atreus  at  Mycenae,  but  only 
white  mounds  of  bee-hive  form.  In  the  Piraeus  street,  in  1891, 
were  found  the  remains  of  such  an  erection,  about  six  feet  in 
diameter,  built  up  of  earth  and  tiles,  and  covered  with  fine 
stucco.2  It  was  in  form  like  half  an  egg.  On  this  mound  would 
be  set  up  in  the  seventh  and  sixth  centuries  one  of  those  great 

1 A recent  account  of  this  cemetery  will  be  found  in  Bruckner’s  Friedhof  am 
Eridanos,  1909. 

2Jahrbuch  des  Arch.  Inst.,  1891,  p.  197.  Compare  Sculptured  Tombs  of 
Hellas,  p.  109. 


62 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


painted  vases  of  the  so-called  Dipylon  style,  adorned  with 
roughly  drawn  scenes  from  the  daily  life  of  the  people,  or  the 
procession  to  the  burying-place,  and  decorated  with  rude  de- 
signs of  geometrical  pattern,  vases  destined  to  receive  the  offer- 
ings brought  at  set  seasons  to  the  tomb.  Somewhat  later, 
when  the  spirit  which  prompted  the  growth  of  Greek  sculpture 
had  begun  to  stir,  there  would  be  set  up  upon  or  beside  the 
mound  a marble  slab  as  a more  articulate  memorial.  This 
marble  slab,  perhaps  at  first  a mere  unadorned  mark  of  inter- 
ment, naturally  tempted  the  sculptor,  and  by  the  end  of  the 
sixth  century  was  commonly  decorated  with  reliefs,  representing 
the  deceased  in  some  characteristic  occupation.  From  such 
simple  beginnings  spread  the  whole  cycle  of  statues  and  reliefs 
which  made  the  cemetery  of  Athens  in  the  classic  age  a museum 
of  artistic  monuments. 

Through  the  later  fifth  and  the  fourth  centuries  the  splendour 
of  sculptured  Athenian  tombs  went  on  increasing.  Expensive 
memorials,  such  as  in  the  days  of  the  Persian  wars  were  re- 
served for  groups  of  men  who  had  fallen  in  battle,  or  citizens 
who  had  greatly  distinguished  themselves,  were  later  set  up  as 
an  outlet  for  the  affection  of  surviving  family  or  friends.  Cicero 
gives  us  a brief,  and  no  doubt  an  accurate,  summary  of  Athenian 
legislation  in  the  matter.1  “ Shortly  after  the  time  of  Solon,  on 
account  of  the  increasing  size  of  tombs,  such  as  we  see  in  the 
cemetery  of  the  Ceramicus,  a law  was  passed  that  no  tomb  should 
be  set  up  of  greater  elaboration  than  such  as  ten  men  could 
accomplish  in  three  days.  Nor  was  such  tomb  to  be  adorned 
with  plaster-work,  nor  were  Hermae,  as  they  are  called,  to  be 
placed  on  it,  nor  were  inscriptions  in  praise  of  the  dead  to  be 
engraved  save  in  the  case  of  public  tombs,  and  by  one  designed 
by  public  authority.  . . . Demetrius  (Phalereus),  however,  tells 
us  that  presently  the  splendour  of  funerals  and  tombs  became 
fashionable  to  the  same  degree  as  is  now  the  way  at  Rome.  He 


1 De  legibus , II.,  26. 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


63 


himself  brought  in  a law  to  check  it.  . . . He  diminished  the 
cost  of  funerals  not  only  by  imposing  fines,  but  even  by  restrict- 
ing them  in  time ; they  were  by  law  confined  to  the  time  before 
daylight.  He  also  set  bounds  to  fresh  tombs ; ordaining  that 
on  the  tumulus  of  earth  nothing  should  be  set  up  but  a little 
column  not  higher  than  three  cubits,  or  a flat  slab,  or  a water- 
pot.  A special  magistrate  was  appointed  to  superintend  this 
matter/'  When  Cicero  speaks  of  plaster-work  (opus  tectorium) 
he  perhaps  means  fresco-painting,  for  which  a coating  of  plaster 
was  necessary  as  a foundation,  or  his  authority  may  have  been 
really  speaking  of  reliefs.  When  he  speaks  of  a water-pot 
(labellum),  he  must  mean  not  the  hydria,  which  does  not  occur 
on  graves,  but  the  lutrophoros,  or  vessel  for  fetching  sacred 
water  from  the  Ilissus  for  the  nuptial  bath,  a marble  represen- 
tation of  which  commonly  stood  on  the  graves  of  those  who  died 
unwedded.1 

This  statement  is  in  general  accord  with  the  facts  as  revealed 
by  the  spade.  Monuments  in  the  archaic  period  are  quite 
simple ; but  the  severe  law  of  Solon  must  soon  have  been  some- 
what relaxed,  as  we  find  on  them,  not  indeed  laudatory  inscrip- 
tions, but  simple  reliefs  or  paintings  representing  the  deceased. 
We  possess  only  a few  tombs  of  the  time  before  the  Persian  wars. 
In  the  days  of  greater  hardness  and  austerity  which  followed  on 
those  wars,  the  monuments  of  the  dead  are  very  simple;  the 
inscription  recording  usually  only  the  name  of  the  deceased  and 
of  his  father  and  clan.  Then  in  the  later  fifth  and  the  fourth 
centuries  the  art  of  the  sculptor  has  fuller  and  fuller  course ; 
until  in  the  age  of  Demetrius  Phalereus,  at  the  end  of  the  fourth 
century,  it  meets  with  a decided  check. 

The  usual  and  simplest  form  of  the  tombstone  is  the  stele  or 
mere  upright  slab,  surmounted  by  a conventional  acanthus 
design,  whereon  is  engraved  the  name  of  the  dead,  and  fre- 
quently, in  the  most  unpretending  style  of  art,  a relief  represent- 

1 Sculptured  Tombs  of  Hellas , p.  114. 


64 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ing  him  as  standing  or  seated,  armed  for  battle,  or  practising 
the  exercises  of  the  gymnasium,  or  merely  at  rest.  Women  are 

spinning,  with  the  work- 
basket  at  their  feet ; girls 
hold  dolls,  boys  some  pet 
animal.  There  is  little  to 
indicate  either  death  or  a 
future  life ; the  reference 
is  to  the  past  rather  than 
the  future.  The  religious 
complexion  of  the  Spartan 
graves  is  absent ; the 
Athenians  took  life  as  it 
came,  without  much 
thought  of  what  might  lie 
beyond.  But  as  the  size 
and  costliness  of  the  tomb 
increased,  the  scuplture 
of  it  became  more  com- 
plex. The  larger  monu- 
ments of  the  fourth  cen- 
tury have  the  appearance 
of  being  abbreviated 
copies  of  temples.  There 
is  on  each  side  a flanking 
pillar  or  pilaster,  and 
above,  an  architrave  on 
which  is  the  modest  and 
self-restrained  inscription. 
One  might  at  first  sight 
suppose  that  the  agreement  with  the  general  form  of  a 
temple  or  shrine  showed  a religious  motive.  But  the  un- 
religious  character  of  the  sculpture  is  in  contradiction  to 
1 Sculptured  Tombs , PI.  III. 


Fig.  8.  — Tynnias,  seated  : Athens.1 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


65 


this  notion;  and  we  may  rather  suppose  that  there  is  in 
reality  merely  a frame  for  a domestic  interior,  the  architecture 
of  temple  and  house  being  almost  identical. 


Fig.  9.  — Family  group  : Athens.1 


Within  the  frame  made  by  pillars  and  pediment  we  have  a 
relief,  sometimes  in  higher  and  sometimes  in  lower  relief,  rep- 


1 Sculptured  Tombs , PL  XXIII. 


66 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


resenting  a scene  of  Attic  daily  life.  Sometimes  we  have  a 
young  athlete  with  his  trainer  or  with  friends,  his  highly  de- 
veloped form  devoid  of  all  garments,  practising  the  muscles  of 
his  limbs.  Sometimes  we  have  a horseman  riding  out,  or  over- 
throwing an  enemy.  Sometimes  we  have  bearded  men  taking 
quiet  leave  of  one  another,  as  one  sets  forth  on  the  last  journey. 
But  the  most  elaborate  and  pleasing  scenes  are  those  in  which 
women  figure.  This  will  naturally  surprise  those  who  think  of 
Athenian  women  as  kept  very  much  in  the  background,  and  of 
no  great  importance  in  the  life  of  so  intensely  political  a people 
as  the  Athenians.  Certainly  women  were  in  Greece  more 
limited  in  their  occupations  and  more  confined  in  their  activities 
than  are  modern  women.  But  the  reliefs  of  the  tombs  prove 
that  at  all  events  in  domestic  life  they  were  held  in  great  honour 
and  affection.  The  family  groups  in  which  husband  and  wife 
are  hand  in  hand,  or  in  which  a mother  is  taking  leave  of  the 
children  grouped  about  her,  are  among  the  most  pleasing  works 
of  ancient  sculpture,  free  from  all  painful  expression  and  from 
all  exaggerated  sentiment,  but  full  of  the  poetry  of  the  life  of 
simple  duty  and  natural  affection.  And  since  the  art  of  Greece 
in  more  ambitious  edifices  is  mainly  concerned  with  the  illus- 
tration of  myth  and  mythical  history,  these  peeps  into  the 
actual  everyday  existence  of  the  people  are  of  peculiar  interest. 
Goethe,  in  a charming  passage  of  his  travels,  has  dwelt  with 
poetic  sympathy  and  insight  on  these  reliefs,  on  their  simplicity 
and  moderation,  their  freedom  from  exaggerated  pathos  and 
all  that  is  morbid,  their  diffusion  of  an  aroma  like  that  of  a 
breeze  blowing  over  a garden  of  roses.  Some  of  them  we  know 
to  come  from  the  workshops  of  great  artists,  and  there  is  no  in- 
congruity in  finding  in  these  a parallel  to  the  Idylls  of  Theocritus. 

The  great  cemetery  of  the  Ceramicus  bordered  the  road  to 
Eleusis  on  both  sides  for  some  distance.  Had  the  reliefs  rep- 
presented  painful  scenes,  or  their  inscriptions  dwelt  too  strongly 
on  the  illusion  of  life  and  its  sad  disappointments,  they  would 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


67 


have  furnished  a chilling  porch  to  the  beauties  of  Athens ; as 
they  were,  they  merely  cast  a gentle  shadow  on  the  spirit,  re- 
minding passers-by  of  the  transitory 
nature  of  life,  and  counselling  them 
to  make  wise  and  temperate  use  of 
its  enjoyments. 

Two  rather  curious  forms  some- 
times taken  by  the  marble  stele 
must  be  mentioned.  Frequently  it 
is  cut  in  the  shape  of  a lekythos  or 
oil-flask,  an  allusion  perhaps  to  the 
oil  so  constantly  used  by  the  Greek 
athlete  in  his  training.  And  some- 
times it  takes  the  form  of  a water- 
pot,  such  as  was  used  for  the  cere- 
monial bath  before  marriage.  This 
kind  of  memorial,  as  has  been  already 
observed,  was  used  only  in  the  case 
of  those  who  died  unwedded,  death 
being  looked  on,  in  a poetical  figure 
which  was  taken  with  some  literal- 
ness, as  a marriage  with  the  god  or 
goddess  of  the  lower  world.  These 
imitations  of  vessels  in  actual  use 
were  carved  with  inscriptions  and 
with  scenes  from  daily  life  just  like 
the  oblong  stelae. 

On  none  of  these  monuments  is 

there  any  serious  attempt  at  por-  Fig  10.  _ Water- vessel  on 
traiture.  The  generic  always  attracts  tomb : Athens.1 

the  artist  of  early  Greece  more  than  the  individual.  And  there  was 
current  a feeling  with  which  we  may  well  sympathize,  that  in  dying 
a man  or  woman  was  loosed  from  the  defects  of  individuality,  and 


* 1 Sculptured,  Tombs , PL  IV. 


68 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


made  part  of  the  larger  spiritual  life.  Thus  the  scenes  are  always 
rendered  with  a view  to  the  suggestion  of  ideas  rather  than  to 
the  recording  of  facts.  The  worthiest  occupations  of  life, 
scenes  of  greeting  or  of  parting,  family  groups,  such  are  the  con- 
stant themes  of  the  funereal  sculptor ; and  that  the  scenes  are 
not  monotonous  and  are  constantly  varied  in  detail  is  a mark 
of  the  perpetual  youth  and  freshness  of  Hellenic  sculpture. 

Some  of  the  stelae  of  Athens  were  not  sculptured,  but  adorned 
with  painting.  But  the  painter  takes  the  same  subjects  as  the 
sculptor ; and  between  a painted  relief  and  a painting  in  which 
the  style  is  very  similar  to  that  of  a relief  the  difference  is  not 
great.  If  the  colours,  or  even  the  outlines,  of  the  paintings  were 
well  preserved,  these  stelae  would  help  us  in  our  studies  of  the 
development  of  the  painter’s  art;  but  unfortunately  this  is 
not  the  case.  Recently  at  Pagasae  in  Thessaly,  there  have 
been  found,  built  into  the  walls  of  Turkish  fortifications,  a great 
number  of  painted  tombstones  of  various  dates.1  Most  of 
them  are,  as  we  should  have  expected,  obliterated ; but  a few 
are  fairly  well  preserved,  and  of  interest,  although  naturally 
the  artists  employed  on  this  kind  of  work  were  of  mediocre 
talent. 

Since  the  facts  of  the  deaths  of  relatives  and  friends,  and  the 
feelings  of  sorrow  and  vacancy  which  they  arouse,  are  the  same 
in  all  ages,  it  is  tempting  for  a moment  to  compare  with  the 
cemeteries  of  Athens  those  of  our  own  day.  These  latter  are 
of  course  informed  by  the  sentiments  of  Christianity.  The  hope 
of  a bliss  beyond  the  grave,  and  of  a joyous  meeting  on  the 
other  side,  have  been  for  ages  far  more  vivid  in  the  Christian 
Church  than  they  were  among  the  Greeks,  who  seemed  to  St. 
Paul  to  sorrow  as  those  who  had  no  hope.  The  prospect  of  a 
dwelling  in  the  Elysian  fields  could  scarcely  be  sufficiently 
attractive  to  rob  death  of  its  harshness.  Yet  we  know  that  in 
some  cases  it  was  effective.  The  Antigone  of  Sophocles  ex- 

1 Some  are  published  : see  Ephemeris  Archaiologike,  1908,  PL  I-IV. 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


69 


presses  the  conviction  that  if  she  failed  in  family  duty  to  her 
dead  brother’s  body,  she  could  not  meet  her  father  and  mother 
in  Hades.  Socrates,  in  the  Platonic  Apologia , speaks  with  en- 
thusiasm of  the  prospect  of  meeting  in  Hades  Orpheus  and 
Homer  and  other  prophets  of  old.  Many  other  passages  to  the 
same  purpose  might  be  cited. 

Thus  it  is  natural  that  some  archaeologists  should  have  seen 
in  the  family  groups  of  the  Athenian  cemeteries  scenes  of  re- 
union in  Hades  rather  than  mere  memorials  of  the  past.  This 
view,  however,  cannot  be  maintained.  The  scenes  predomi- 
nantly represent  farewells,  not  meetings.  There  is  spread  over 
them  an  air,  not  of  joyousness,  but  of  sadness,  greatly  tempered 
as  it  is.  Any  notion  that  the  reference  is  to  future  reunion  is 
indeed  put  out  of  court,  if  we  consider  the  sepulchral  inscrip- 
tions which  are  rare  in  the  fourth  century,  but  become  more 
frequent  in  the  Hellenistic  Age. 

It  is  always  enlightening  to  compare  the  works  of  Greek  art 
with  those  of  literature.  The  literature  which  should  be  spe- 
cially compared  with  the  grave-reliefs  is  the  charming  memorial 
epigrams  of  the  Anthology . In  the  earlier  age  these  are  of 
wonderful  simplicity.  What  could  be  more  direct  than  the 
verses  of  Simonides  set  up  over  those  who  had  fallen  at  Ther- 
mopylae : “ Go  tell  at  Sparta,  thou  that  passest  by,  that  here 
obedient  to  her  laws  we  lie.”  No  sentiment  as  to  the  beauty  of 
patriotism,  no  promise  of  eternal  fame,  no  hint  of  future  re- 
ward ; only  the  eternal  fitness  of  obeying  the  law  at  all  costs, 
the  duty  which  is  so  nobly  enforced  in  that  immortal  dialogue, 
the  Crito.  Epigrams  of  the  Hellenistic  Age  are  naturally  more 
ornate ; of  the  verses  of  such  writers  as  Menander  and  Leonidas 
of  Tarentum  it  has  been  beautifully  said  that  they  are  trifles, 
but  roses.  But  even  these  productions  of  a later  and  more 
sophisticated  age  have  the  same  simple  charm  as  the  sculp- 
tured reliefs.  They  do  not  attempt  either  to  stir  painful  re- 


70 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


membrance,  or  to  point  a religious  moral ; they  only,  so  to  speak, 
hand  one  a cup  of  the  nectar  of  life.  They  remind  one  of  the 
truly  Hellenic  sentiment  of  Spenser  : “ A grain  of  sweet  is  worth 
a pound  of  sour.”  1 The  earlier  epigrams  usually  dwell  only 
on  the  history  of  the  deceased,  or  the  circumstances  of  his  death ; 
the  later  give  utterance  to  the  widespread  notion  that  he  or  she 
becomes  united  in  a sort  of  wedlock  to  the  deities  of  the  lower 
world.  Some  speak  of  the  human  spirit  at  death  in  the  lan- 
guage of  pantheism  or  of  the  Mysteries,  as  returning  to  its  divine 
source,  but  not  as  consciously  passing  into  a higher  plane  of 
personal  existence. 

But  if  we  turn  from  the  strictly  religious  aspect  of  ancient 
and  modern  cemeteries  to  their  aesthetic  charm,  the  balance 
is  all  on  the  Greek  side.  Not  only  are  the  reliefs  and  figures  of 
our  graveyards  the  work  of  inferior  artists,  but  in  their  monot- 
ony and  frigidity  they  lack  all  attraction.  Symbolic  flowers, 
conventional  figures  of  Christian  virtues,  insipid  angels,  are 
among  their  better  forms : while  realistic  portraits,  or  even 
photographs  of  the  dead,  give  a painful  though  commonplace 
aspect  to  the  crowded  rows  of  memorials  in  granite  and  marble. 
Here  and  there  a sculptor  has  been  set  consciously  to  copy  the 
design  of  a Greek  tomb ; and  such  monuments  appear  among 
the  rest  like  gleams  of  sunshine  on  a cloudy  day.  The  occasional 
beauty  of  an  inscription  may  temper  the  commonplace  or  re- 
lieve the  monotony  of  our  acres  of  stone ; and  the  divine  emblem 
of  the  cross  gives  them  a serious  consecration.  But  few  people 
would  care  to  linger  there  apart  from  personal  motives. 

A noteworthy  respect  in  which  modern  sepulchral  art 
most  clearly  shows  a loftier  range  of  feeling  than  ancient,  ap- 
pears on  the  graves  of  those  who  have  fallen  in  battle.  The 
Greeks  on  such  graves  usually  represented  the  deceased  as  in 
armour,  and  charging, in  the  full  tide  of  victory;  they  never 
depicted  him  as  overthrown  or  dying.  On  modern  monuments 

1 There  is  a chapter  on  these  epigrams  in  my  Sculptured  Tombs  of  Hellas. 


IV 


THE  HOUSE  AND  THE  TOMB 


71 


the  death  of  a hero  is  represented  as  the  consummation  of  a 
noble  life  and  a kind  of  apotheosis.  The  Greeks  avoided  the 
fact  that  death  is  necessarily  a kind  of  defeat,  which  fact  we  by 
a nobler  impulse  transform.  Here  we  have,  at  least  in  idea,  the 
better  of  them.  But  in  the  depicting  of  a domestic  interior,  of 
a parting  of  friends,  of  the  relations  of  children  to  a mother, 
their  art  is  infinitely  more  graceful  and  noble,  because  more 
self-controlled,  and  more  fully  aware  of  its  due  limits. 


CHAPTER  V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 

It  has  been  well  observed  by  Brunn,  the  most  illustrious  ex- 
ponent of  Greek  art  in  the  last  generation,  that  in  the  matter  of 
art  the  Greeks  proceeded  on  much  the  same  lines  as  they  fol- 
lowed in  the  creation  of  a literature. 

Before  the  Greeks  came  upon  the  stage  of  the  world,  chronicles 
existed,  and  myths,  and  hymns  to  the  Gods.  But  literature  in 
the  true  sense  of  the  word  did  not  exist.  And  when  literature 
began  to  appear,  the  letters  in  which  it  was  written  were  bor- 
rowed from  other  peoples,  mostly  from  the  Phoenicians.  But 
the  Greeks  used  those  letters  in  their  own  way,  to  express  their 
own  ideas,  so  that  Greek  poetry  and  oratory  and  history  and 
philosophy,  while  they  incorporated  some  of  what  was  passed 
on  from  the  older  peoples  of  the  East,  were  genuine  and  un- 
doubted embodiments  of  the  Greek  spirit. 

Greek  art  arose  in  the  same  way.  Before  the  seventh  cen- 
tury sculpture  and  painting  were  well  known  in  Egypt  and 
Babylon.  The  early  art  of  Mesopotamia  mostly  runs  parallel 
to  the  chronicles  of  the  kings,  and  records  in  a kind  of  picture- 
writing their  achievements.  The  art  of  Egypt  is  also  in  part 
of  this  historic  character ; but  it  is  also  largely  devoted  to  the 
service  of  religion.  Both  of  these  regions  developed  a kind  of 
art  suited  to  their  needs,  and  of  great  interest.  But  to  us  it  is 
dead  ; it  reached  its  apex  and  declined ; its  value  to  the  modern 
world  is  only  historic. 

We  have  learned  from  the  researches  of  Dr.  Schliemann,  Sir 
A.  Evans  and  others,  that  in  Greece  and  the  Greek  islands 

72 


V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 


73 


there  existed  in  the  second  millennium  b.c.  an  attractive  and 
striking  art,  which  in  some  ways  stood  at  a higher  level  than 
those  of  Egypt  and  Babylon  in  the  same  age.  Some  of  the 
wall-paintings  and  reliefs  of  the  palace  at  Cnossus,  and  such 
lesser  works  of  art  as  the  cups  from  Vaphio,  are  in  feeling  for 
nature  and  decorative  skill  superior  to  the  productions  of  the 
great  Empires  of  the  East.  This  class  of  monuments  ceased 
to  be  produced  when  the  Greeks  as  a race  of  simple  manners 
and  crude  civilization  came  in  from  the  north,  and  destroyed 
the  great  palaces  and  wealthy  cities  of  the  Mycenaean  Age.  Here 
and  there  works,  such  as  the  Lion-Gate  of  Mycenae,  survived 
into  the  historic  age.  And  as  the  Mycenaean  people  were  prob- 
ably not  exterminated,  but  absorbed,  some  of  the  skill  of  hand 
and  eye  which  had  found  scope  in  the  monuments  of  the  pre- 
historic age  may  have  been  of  avail  in  aiding  the  rise  of  an  art 
which  was  essentially  Greek. 

But  Greek  art,  as  we  know  it,  is  a profoundly  original  and 
characteristic  development.  Certain  decorative  forms,  derived 
from  the  lotus,  the  rose  and  the  palm,  the  Greeks  seem  to  have 
adopted  from  Oriental  art.  The  palaces  and  carvings  of  Egypt 
and  Cappadocia  may  have  impressed  them  and  stimulated 
their  ambition.  But  their  sculpture  and  painting  are,  from  the 
sixth  century  onwards,  original  and  native.  They  completely 
differ  in  character  from  all  that  had  gone  before.  We  can  trace 
Greek  ideas  working  through  and  moulding  art ; so  that  its 
history  is  that  of  a gradual  development,  until  it  reaches  a level 
as  high  as  the  literary  level  of  Sophocles  and  Thucydides  and 
Theocritus. 

Most  peoples  have  made  rude  representations  of  the  human 
form  to  stand  for  gods  or  men.  From  that  general  level  the 
Greeks  started.  But  even  in  the  rough  male  figures  of  stone 
of  the  sixth  century  there  is  something  which  is  purely  Greek. 
It  is  because  of  this  determined  originality,  because  they  were 
not  content  to  rest  in  and  imitate  the  works  of  those  whom  they 


74 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


regarded  as  barbarian,  that  the  rise  of  Greek  Art  was  so  slow. 
Other  peoples  of  inferior  artistic  capacity,  such  as  the  Etruscans, 
were  more  apt  at  copying  the  careful  and  stylish  reproductions 
of  the  monuments  of  the  East  brought  to  them  by  Phoenician 
traders.  But  the  Greeks,  instead  of  travelling  in  the  facile 
paths  of  imitation,  were  determined  with  perseverance  to  ham- 
mer out  a style  of  their  own.  In  some  respects  this  obstinacy 
told  against  them.  The  artists  of  Cnossus  represented  the 
muscles  of  arms  and  legs  better  than  Greek  artists  of  the  sixth 
century.  The  decorative  patterns  on  Minoan  vases  have  a 
freshness  and  vigour  of  style  to  which  Greek  decorative  art  never 
attained.  The  lions  on  later  Assyrian  reliefs  are  better  than  any 
Greek  lions,  at  all  events  until  the  Hellenistic  Age.  But  these 
exceptions  only  throw  into  relief  the  vast  superiority  of  Greek 
art  of  the  fifth  and  following  centuries  over  all  that  had  gone 
before.  It  is  superior  because  it  is  infinitely  more  human.  It 
looks  on  the  world  in  the  light  at  once  of  fact  and  of  idea,  and 
compels  us  to  look  with  it  in  sympathy  and  affection. 

The  earliest  art  which  is  really  Greek,  that  of  the  so-called 
geometric  ware  of  the  eighth  and  seventh  centuries,  is  far  less 
attractive  than  that  of  the  Minoans  and  Mycenaeans.  The 
human  frame  is  in  it  little  more  than  a diagram,  and  the  animal 
and  vegetable  forms  are  angular  and  unnatural.  But  it  yet 
shows  certain  ethical  qualities  which  give  a promise  of  future 
greatness,  careful  measure  and  balance,  self-restraint,  rigid 
subordination  of  every  part  to  the  whole.  One  feels  its  ethical 
and  racial  superiority  to  the  facile  luxuriance  of  the  Mycenaean 
Age. 

It  is  given  to  every  nation  to  embody  and  display  to  the  world 
some  side  of  the  great  formative  tendencies  which  have  led  to 
the  development  of  humanity.  Each  people  can  assimilate 
some  of  these  better  than  other  peoples.  The  manner  in  which 
the  tendencies  are  displayed  also  vary  from  nation  to  nation. 


V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 


75 


Some  nations  have  a genius  for  producing  stable  political  in- 
stitutions, some  for  building  monuments  destined  to  last  almost 
for  ever.  Some  have  a turn  for  conduct,  and  set  its  principles 
on  a permanent  basis.  Of  all  peoples  the  Greeks  have  been 
the  most  original  and  many-sided  in  their  activities.  In 
speculative  thought  or  philosophy,  in  physical  science,  in 
oratory,  in  historic  writing,  they  set  the  world  going.  But  no 
development  of  theirs  has  been  more  characteristic  and  of  more 
permanent  value  than  their  art. 

What  were  the  causes  of  this  wonderful  blossoming  ? Of 
course  in  the  main  they  were  of  the  spirit,  and  worked  from 
within.  But  there  were  also  external  circumstances  which 
made  this  working  easier  and  more  effectual.  Something  might 
be  due  to  the  equable  and  propitious  climate  of  Greece,  avoid- 
ing the  extremes  of  heat  and  cold,  and  favouring  a robust  and 
harmonious  physical  development.  Something  might  be  due 
to  the  mere  beauty  of  the  country,  its  clqar-cut  mountains,  its 
abundant  fountains  and  streams,  its  favourable  position  in  the 
ways  of  commerce  and  colonization.  Certainly  much  was  due 
to  the  physical  beauty  of  the  men  and  women,  though  the 
causes  of  that  beauty  cannot  be  determined.  It  is  certain  that 
other  races  have  lived  under  as  favourable  conditions  and  not 
attained  to  the  same  physical  perfection.  It  is  better  to  speak 
of  influences  which  can  be  traced  with  more  certainty,  the 
habits  of  the  people  and  the  nature  of  their  religion. 

No  clearer  and  more  definite  cause  of  the  excellence  of  Greek 
sculpture  is  to  be  found  than  lies  in  the  athletic  habits  of  the 
people.  The  athletic  festivals  of  Greece  were  always  religious 
in  character ; they  were  celebrated  in  the  great  national  sacred 
places,  and  carried  out  in  honour  of  Zeus  or  Apollo,  Poseidon 
or  Athena.  But  I think  that  in  speaking  of  them  as  in  origin 
religious  we  are  transposing  cause  and  effect,  and  conveying 
a false  notion  to  a modern  reader.  For  it  was  the  deep-seated, 
largely  unconscious  conviction  of  the  race  that  health  and 


76 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


beauty  were  favoured  by  athletic  competitions,  combined  with 
the  love  of  health  and  beauty,  which  made  the  Greeks  believe 
that  these  sports  were  pleasing  to  the  Gods.  It  is  more  true 
to  say  that  athletic  sports  had  great  effects  on  the  moulding 
of  the  current  ideas  of  the  gods  than  that  belief  in  the  gods 
produced  the  athletic  festivals.  Religion  in  modern  days  has 
usually  been  confined  to  certain  sides  of  human  activity,  the 
spiritual  side  as  contrasted  with  the  material  side.  But  Greek 
religion,  which  in  depth  could  not  compare  with  Christianity, 
as  it  has  usually  been  received,  covered  a wider  field ; so  that 
every  power  and  aptitude  of  man,  and  indeed  every  form  of 
activity  and  enjoyment,  was  regarded  as  pleasing  to  the  Gods, 
and  was  placed  under  their  patronage. 

Greek  athletic  sports  differed  from  those  of  modern  days 
mainly  in  three  respects.  In  the  first  place,  they  were  far 
more  general.  Those  of  our  modern  sports  which  are  in  most 
general  vogue  among  young  men,  such  as  cricket  and  foot-ball, 
have  very  great  social  value,  and  are  excellent  for  the  promo- 
tion of  health,  but  they  do  not  strongly  tend  towards  a beauti- 
ful and  harmonious  physical  development.  And  track  ath- 
letics and  gymnastics  are  in  use  among  the  few  only.  But  in 
Greece  almost  every  young  man  who  was  not  deformed  in  body 
and  who  was  of  free  birth,  spent  a considerable  part  of  the 
day  in  the  gymnasium,  in  a variety  of  exercises  which  tended 
directly  not  only  to  the  cultivation  of  strength,  but  to  thorough 
development  of  every  limb,  and  the  elimination  of  weaknesses. 
In  the  second  place,  whereas  in  modern  athletics  only  results 
are  reckoned,  and  style  is  quite  subordinated  to  effectiveness, 
in  Greece  style  was  greatly  considered.  The  exercises,  as  vases 
prove,  were  commonly  gone  through  to  the  sound  of  the  flute, 
and  grace  of  action  was  as  much  admired  as  force.  In  the 
third  place,  nudity  and  oil  were  regarded  as  essential  to  an 
athletic  training.  We  can  easily  understand  that  when  young 
men  had  to  run  and  wrestle  naked,  they  would  be  very  desirous 


V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 


77 


to  remove  any  obvious  weakness  and  would  avoid  any  habits 
which  might  in  the  result  expose  them  to  ridicule.  What 
a chance  the  sculptor  would  have,  when  he  could  daily  watch 
beautiful  young  bodies  in  every  pose  of  strain  and  conflict ! 
And  the  constant  use  of  oil  would  preserve  a beautiful  and 
glossy  skin. 

The  Greek  sculptor  or  painter,  who  spent  a great  part  of  his 
day  in  watching  the  exercises  of  men,  in  seeing  the  most  per- 
fectly made  of  the  youths  in  every  pose  of  running,  discus- 
throwing, or  wrestling,  would  start  with  such  a knowledge  of 
the  human  frame  as  a modern  artist  can  scarcely  acquire.  The 
modern  sculptor,  no  doubt,  knows  more  of  anatomy  than  the 
Greek  could  acquire  in  the  great  age  of  ideal  sculpture.  But 
sculpture  has  to  do  with  the  surface,  with  what  the  eye  can 
see ; and  a knowledge  of  the  interior  of  the  human  frame  car- 
ried to  great  detail  may  serve  as  much  to  mislead  as  to  help. 
Greek  statues  in  the  Hellenistic  Age  show  a knowledge  of  anat- 
omy which  is  very  exact;  but  no  good  judge  regards  them  as 
on  the  whole  preferable  to  the  masterpieces  of  early  art. 

But  the  Greek  artist  was  not  content  to  reproduce  the  ath- 
lete of  every  day.  He  studied  many  forms,  and  tried  by 
taking  what  was  best  in  each  to  form  an  ideal.  Or  rather, 
he  tried  to  form  several  ideals.  For  though  strength  and 
beauty  of  outline  are  marks  of  all  fine  athletes,  it  is  evident 
that  various  kinds  of  exercise  would  produce  varieties.  The 
boxer  would  be  of  heavier  build ; the  runner  lighter  and  more 
supple.  Most  fully  developed  of  all  would  be  the  pentathlos, 
the  man  who  tried  to  excel  in  the  five  exercises  of  running, 
throwing  the  spear,  hurling  the  discus,  leaping  and  wrestling. 
Such  men,  as  we  know,  were  regarded  as  the  flower  of  Greek 
athletes,  and  it  was  they  whom  the  sculptors  most  closely 
copied.1 

1 This  is  how  I render  the  statement  of  Pliny  that  the  athletes  who  were 
thrice  victorious  were  more  closely  copied  in  their  statues  (Nat.  Hist.,  34,  16). 
The  pentathlos  who  won  in  three  of  the  above  five  contests  took  the  prize. 


78 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Very  different  is  the  procedure  of  a modern  sculptor,  who 
has  usually  to  seek  his  model  among  men  of  a low  class,  ill-fed, 
ill-trained,  and  debauched  by  bad  habits,  and  is  usually  content 
to  copy  what  he  sees.  We  may  find  many  deplorable  examples 
in  the  exhibitions  of  the  Royal  Academy.  On  the  other  hand, 
we  may  find  modern  instances  of  the  search  for  a type,  especially 
in  the  works  of  Dr.  Tait  Mackenzie,  who  has  used  his  knowl- 
edge gained  from  a long  study  of  American  athletes,  to  pro- 
duce typical  figures  which  may  vie  in  beauty  with  those  of 
Greek  Hellenistic  art.  Such  instances  show  us  that  athletic 
sports  may  in  modern  as  in  ancient  days  form  the  foundation 
for  schools  of  sculpture.  Dr.  Mackenzie  works  by  means  of 
detailed  measurements,  and  the  proportions  of  his  figures  are 
reached  by  calculation  of  averages.  The  Greek  artist  may  in 
some  cases' have  so  proceeded,  but  more  usually,  beyond  doubt, 
he  worked  by  the  eye  only,  unconsciously  taking  the  same  line 
which  the  modern  artist  takes  consciously. 

While  it  was  from  the  practice  of  athletic  sports  that  the 
Greek  sculptor  took  his  start,  the  faculty  of  working  for  the 
ideal  thus  acquired  was  exercised  in  other  fields.  The  repre- 
sentation of  the  female  form  in  Greek  sculpture  is  not  so  varied 
and  masterly  as  is  that  of  the  male  form ; nor  does  it  so  early 
reach  perfection ; it  is  not  until  the  fourth  century  that  female 
types  of  supreme  loveliness  are  produced.  Though  the  mas- 
sive beauty  of  the  draped  figures  of  the  Parthenon  Pediments 
is  most  impressive,  the  impression  they  produce  is  due  at  least 
as  much  to  their  drapery  as  to  the  figures  which  the  drapery 
partly  conceals  and  partly  reveals.  There  are  obvious  reasons 
why  the  study  of  fine  female  models  should  be  less  easy.  This 
is  illustrated  by  the  story  that  when  the  painter  Zeuxis  under- 
took to  paint  a picture  of  Helen  for  the  people  of  Croton,  he 
made  it  a condition  that  he  should  have  an  opportunity  of 
studying  the  forms  of  the  most  beautiful  girls  of  the  city.  He 
selected  for  detailed  study  five,  whose  names  were  handed 
down  in  honour  to  future  generations. 


V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 


79 


Professor  Briicke  of  Vienna  has  pointed  out,  in  an  admi- 
rable little  work,1  that  one  feature  of  Greek  sculpture  is  what 
may  be  called  the  gradual  accumulation  of  beauty.  There 
are  particular  formations  of  the  body  which  appeared  to  the 
artists  of  great  intrinsic  beauty.  Such  formations  are  in  actual 
models  rare ; certainly  they  are  very  rare  in  modern  days,  but 
of  course  they  may  have  been  commoner  among  the  Greeks. 
When  these  had  once  made  their  way  into  art,  they  were  perpet- 
uated from  school  to  school,  and  became,  as  it  were,  part  of  the 
traditional  stock  of  beauty.  A few  examples  may  make  this 
clear.  In  ordinary  men  the  abdomen  is  certainly  not  a point 
of  beauty.  But  in  well-trained  young  athletes  the  lines  of  the 
abdominal  muscles  are  often  of  a pleasing  pattern.2  The  mod- 
ern eye,  looking  at  such  figures  as  the  athletes  of  Polycleitus 
or  the  Apollo  Belvedere,  is  apt  to  think  that  there  is  little 
in  nature  to  justify  such  a fine  scheme  of  lines.  But  Briicke 3 
shows  that  among  men  who  train  the  muscles  of  the  lower 
part  of  the  trunk,  such  as  the  gondoliers  of  Venice,  a close 
approach  to  the  forms  usual  in  Greek  sculpture  may  be  ob- 
served. However  unusual  these  fine  forms  may  be  in  ordinary 
life,  they  belong  to  the  ideal  athlete,  and  the  best  athletes 
will  tend  to  approach  them.  So  in  the  case  of  women  a partic- 
ularly charming  effect  is  produced  when  the  line  between  breast 
and  upper  arm  is  not  rigid,  but  has  the  gentle  undulation  in  the 
midst  so  notable  in  the  Aphrodite  of  Melos.  It  goes  with  a 
firm  formation  and  high  setting  of  the  breast.  Seldom,  as 
Briicke  remarks,4  is  it  to  be  seen  in  the  modern  model,  because 
it  depends  upon  factors  seldom  found  together.  But  it  is  occa- 
sionally to  be  found ; its  beauty  is  beyond  question ; and  in 
Greek  sculpture  it  is  almost  universal. 

1 The  Human  Figure.  Trans,  by  W.  Anderson. 

2 1 would  here  refer  to  Professor  A.  Thomson’s  Anatomy  for  Artists.  He 
has  had  the  good  sense  to  make  his  diagrams  from  photographs  of  University 
athletes. 

3 The  Human  Figure,  p.  125. 


4 Ibid.,  p.  82. 


80 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


It  may  be  objected  that  by  putting  together  the  excellences 
of  various  models  an  artist  could  only  produce  monsters,  since 
nature  works  out  each  body  on  a consistent  plan.1  This 
objection  holds  good  if  outward  beauties  be  gathered  without 
principle,  and  mechanically  copied.  But  if  the  artist  has 
the  power  to  go  deeper,  to  see  how  nature  works,  and  to  enter 
into  her  spirit,  he  may  succeed  in  producing,  not  a monster, 
but  an  ideal,  free  from  the  accidental  defects  of  the  individual 
figure.  Nature,  if  one  may  venture  to  say  so,  in  individuals 
fails  fully  to  reach  the  perfection  at  which  she  aims.  The 
artist  who  can  recover  the  pattern  according  to  which  she 
worked  may  succeed  in  embodying  it  more  perfectly  in  bronze 
or  marble  than  nature  has  embodied  it  in  flesh  and  blood. 
Such  an  artist  would  reach  in  a measure  the  ideal ; and  it  is  thus 
that  the  Greek  artist,  by  a certain  artistic  intuition,  did  work, 
lie  was  not  content  with  what  may  be  called  aesthetic  nihilism, 
which  is  willing  to  copy  whatever  nature  may  offer,  whether 
good  or  bad.  He  did  not  care  to  perpetuate  the  mere  spon- 
taneous variations  of  the  individual,  but  wished  to  select  only 
such  variations  as  were  beautiful,  and  were  on  the  road  to 
physical  perfection. 

No  doubt  physical  beauty  appealed  to  the  Greeks  more  than 
it  does  to  us.  No  modern  man,  certainly  no  Christian,  would 
regard  beauty  of  physical  construction  and  outward  symmetry 
as  of  equal  value  with  moral  beauty,  which  may  be  found  often 
in  those  of  poor,  and  even  deformed,  physique.  We  appreciate 
more  highly  the  beauty  of  the  face,  especially  of  the  eyes  and 
the  expression,  than  that  of  perfect  physical  development. 
But  a wise  man  would  say:  “This  oughtest  thou  to  do,  and 

not  to  leave  the  other  undone.”  Our  physical  organization  is 
part  of  the  conditions  under  which  we  live.  Disease  and  weak- 
ness are  evils  as  well  as  folly  and  sin.  And  we  have  only  to  look 
round  us  any  day  to  see  how  the  absurd  vagaries  of  fashion 

1 This  difficulty  occurs  to  Lucian,  leones , 5. 


V 


FORMATION  OF  ARTISTIC  TYPES 


81 


and  the  want  of  healthy  feeling  for  what  is  really  beautiful 
depress  the  level  of  our  lives.  I venture  to  say  that  it  would 
be  far  better  for  us  if  an  admiration  for  what  is  healthy  and 
robust  had  more  power  among  us,  more  especially  in  the  vitally 
important  matter  of  sexual  selection.  There  can  be  little 
doubt  that  the  principles  on  which  eugenic  societies  are  founded 
have  deep  foundations  in  the  nature  of  things,  however  crude 
at  present  may  be  the  attempts  to  carry  out  those  principles 
in  practice.  The  danger  of  physical  degeneracy,  carrying  with 
it  in  the  long  run  every  kind  of  degeneracy,  hangs  low  over 
modern  Europe.  Our  restless  rushes  from  place  to  place,  our 
reckless  attempts  to  reach  what  we  think  advantageous  or 
pleasurable  for  ourselves,  make  a gospel  of  rhythm  and  modera- 
tion seem  poor  and  dull.  It  does  not  stir  our  jaded  energies, 
or  rouse  us  with  a stimulating  appeal.  Yet  unless  we  in  some 
measure  return  to  the  artistic  ideals  of  Greece,  we  may  go  from 
bad  to  worse.  Overpowering  ugliness  of  surroundings,  physical 
degeneracy,  nervous  exhaustion  leading  to  disease  and  to 
sterility,  all  these  have,  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  a few,  steadily 
gained  upon  us  in  recent  decades,  and  the  road  which  they  mark 
leads  to  destruction.  Those  physicians  who  devote  themselves 
to  determining  the  conditions  which  lead  to  health,  rather 
than  to  the  patching  up  of  those  who  have  by  indolence  and  want 
of  self-control  lost  their  health,  do  us  infinite  service. 

I can  but  touch  upon  another  possibility.  Some  of  the 
evidence  put  together  by  Mr.  Myers  1 seems  clearly  to  indicate 
that  mental  suggestion  made  to  women  may  modify  the  type  of 
child  which  they  produce.  In  this  way  the  cultivation  and 
admiration  of  the  physical  beauty  of  men  and  women  may 
directly  tend  to  the  production  of  such  beauty  in  the  next 
generation.  In  the  East  pregnant  women  are  anxious  to  gaze 
long  and  steadily  at  children  who  are  remarkable  for  their 
beauty,  and  we  cannot  say  that  they  are  deluded.  Among  our- 

1 F.  W.  H.  Myers,  Human  Personality , Vol.  II.,  p.  57. 

G 


82 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  Y 


selves  it  is  believed  that  the  family  type  especially  maintains 
itself  among  the  old  families  which  have  in  their  living  rooms 
many  family  portraits.  And  beauty  in  face  and  hands  is  far 
commoner  than  beauty  in  those  parts  which  are  hidden  from 
sight  by  clothing. 


CHAPTER  VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 

Though  Greek  art  is  based  ultimately  upon  the  physical 
beauty  of  the  race,  yet  into  its  structure  other  elements  are 
built.  It  is  in  a sense  religious,  but  in  what  sense  needs  to  a 
modern  mind  much  explanation,  the  modern  notions  in  regard 
to  religion  being  very  different  from  those  of  the  Greeks. 

Most  of  the  great  religions  of  the  world  are  either  hostile 
to  plastic  art,  or  at  all  events  unjust  to  it.  As  we  all  know, 
the  second  commandment  of  the  Jewish  Decalogue  absolutely 
prohibits  the  making  of  sculptural  or  pictorial  representations 
of  any  creature.  Of  those  who  in  our  churches  repeat  the 
Commandment  week  by  week,  very  few  realize  this  fact,  which 
shows  with  how  little  attention  we  regard  words  said  in  church. 
The  Mohammedans  take  the  Jewish  view;  and  to  the  stricter 
of  them  any  representation  of  a living  thing  is  anathema,  whence 
the  terrible  havoc  wrought  by  the  Turks  among  works  of 
Greek  art  found  by  them.  Early  Buddhism  and  early  Chris- 
tianity did  not  condemn  all  plastic  art ; but  they  did  not  orig- 
inate great  schools  of  art ; they  accepted  that  which  was  in 
existence,  and  if  they  modified  it,  did  so  rather  in  the  direction 
of  inward  meaning  than  in  that  of  outward  manifestation, 
their  eyes  being  turned  inwards  towards  the  heart  of  man 
rather  than  outwards  towards  the  world.  But  Greek  religion 
was  naturally  closely  allied  with  plastic  art,  and  found  in  it 
one  of  its  chief  fields  of  manifestation. 

It  has  been  too  much  the  custom  with  those  who  have  written 
on  Greek  religion  to  treat  it  as  an  evolution  in  time ; to  regard 

83 


84 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


certain  elements  in  it  as  belonging  only  to  a very  early  age, 
and  others  as  developed  from  these  and  taking  their  place  at 
a later  period.  The  fact  is  that  different  views  and  phases  of 
religion  coexisted  in  time,  some  being  natural  to  the  intellectu- 
ally more  advanced,  and  some  to  the  intellectually  more 
backward  of  the  race.  It  is  nearer  the  truth  to  regard  them  as 
belonging  to  strata  of  society  in  each  age,  rather  than  as  belong- 
ing to  all  the  people  at  successive  ages.  There  were  not  indeed 
among  the  Greeks  those  immense  differences  in  intellectual 
development  between  class  and  class  which  now  are  found  in 
England,  Germany  and  France,  and  which  constitute  an  ever- 
present peril  to  society.  In  Greek  cities,  with  their  stirring 
political  life  and  their  constant  throngings  in  the  market-place, 
there  was  not  the  same  contrast  between  stratum  and  stratum 
of  the  people.  The  extremes  were  nothing  like  so  far  apart. 
The  poorest  citizen  might  spend  the  morning  in  listening  to  the 
discourses  of  Socrates  or  Antisthenes,  and  the  afternoon  in 
discussing  the  most  recent  sculptural  dedications.  But  yet 
the  contrasts  existed,  in  the  temperaments  if  not  in  the  sur- 
roundings of  the  citizens.  And  outside  the  cities  was  a popula- 
tion of  peasants  and  farmers,  absorbed  in  the  operations  of 
agriculture,  and  without  opportunities  for  cultivating  the  mind. 

Thus  in  the  religions  of  Greece,  as  in  those  of  modern  coun- 
tries, there  were  various  strains.  And  some  of  these  strains  had 
far  more  affinity  to  art  than  others.  We  may  distinguish  four 
such  strains.  (1)  In  the  deepest  stratum  of  religion,  perhaps 
the  oldest,  and  certainly  that  which  had  most  vogue  in  remote 
places  and  among  the  most  backward  of  the  race,  lay  the  old- 
world  belief  in  ghosts,  in  sympathetic  magic,  in  woodland  and 
agricultural  demons.  Such  beliefs  are  found  among  most 
peoples  at  a low  level  of  culture.  We  have  heard  a great  deal 
about  them  of  late  years  from  the  anthropologists,  who  roam 
from  Britain  to  Japan,  and  from  Patagonia  to  Kamchatka  in 
the  hope  of  finding  primitive  human  beliefs  enshrined  in  sur- 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


85 


viving  custom,  as  the  remains  of  extinct  animals  are  preserved 
in  rocks.  (2)  Out  of  these  primitive  elements  arose  the  mystic 
religions  such  as  those  connected  with  the  worship  at  Eleusis 
and  the  Dionysiac  societies,  religions  which  dwelt  mainly  on  the 
facts  of  defilement  and  absolution,  on  sacrifices  of  communion 
and  the  hope  of  a future  life.  These  forms  of  religion  had  much 
more  vogue  in  the  later  than  in  the  greater  times  of  Greece. 
They  were  like  shadows,  scarcely  to  be  noticed  when  the  merid- 
ian sun  of  Greek  civilization  was  at  its  full  height,  but  more 
prominent  towards  morning  and  evening.  (3)  The  various 
schools  of  philosophy,  which  flourished  after  the  time  of 
Socrates,  gradually  formed  a severe  monotheism,  full  of 
ethical  elements,  which  reached  its  utmost  height  in  the 
writings  of  Epictetus  and  Marcus  Aurelius.1  This,  however, 
was  the  religion  of  the  few ; it  was  above  the  head  of  the  ordinary 
citizen.  (4)  The  ordinary  cultus  of  the  gods  of  the  Olympic 
circle  and  of  the  heroes,  a cultus  accepted  by  the  cities,  adorned 
with  frequent  pomps  and  shows,  recognized  by  the  poets,  and 
in  evidence  on  every  side  in  temple  and  statue,  festival  and 
dedication. 

Of  these  four  strains  in  religion,  it  is  the  last-mentioned  only 
which  has  much  importance  for  art.  The  Greeks  set  them- 
selves, from  the  sixth  century  onwards,  to  embody  in  painting 
and  sculpture  all  that  most  stirs  the  religious  feelings  of  men 
when  they  are  at  the  stage  of  naturalism : the  sun  in  its  splen- 
dour, the  moon  in  its  gentle  romance,  the  ocean  and  the  river, 
the  mountain  and  the  forest.  Their  imagination  peopled  the 
mountain  glens  and  the  waves  of  the  sea  with  an  overflowing 
life  crystallized  in  human  forms.  It  found  a natural  and  con- 
crete expression  for  all  that  excites  the  wonder  and  delight 
of  the  child  of  nature  in  the  presence  of  nature.  The  modern 
artist  renders  the  features  of  nature  as  he  sees  them,  adding 
no  doubt  to  the  scene  something  of  human  emotion,  without 

1 See  E.  Caird,  Evolution  of  Theology  in  the  Greek  Philosophers. 


86 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


which  it  would  be  uninteresting.  The  Greek  translated  those 
features  by  means  of  human  parallels.  The  sun  was  a bright- 
haired  god,  driving  his  four  fiery  horses  from  rising  to  setting. 
The  moon  was  a cold  and  chaste  goddess,  sometimes,  however, 
stooping  from  heaven  to  earth,  for  the  love  of  a shepherd  or  a 
hunter.  The  strength  and  untamed  fury  of  the  sea  was  incor- 
porated in  the  figure  of  Poseidon,  with  deep  chest,  and  unkempt 
hair  like  the  drifting  sea-weed.  In  the  representation  of  some 
of  the  deities,  especially  of  Apollo  and  Poseidon,  there  remained 
always  some  trace  of  this  primitive  naturalism.  But  as  the 
race  grew  more  civilized  and  ethical,  and  the  deities  were  united 
into  an  Olympian  society,  under  the  presidency  of  supreme 
Zeus,  the  gods  became  more  human  as  well  as  more  humane 
and  righteous.  The  myths  told  about  them  remained  like 
fairy-stories  at  a barbarous  level,  but  they  were  often  inter- 
preted in  a moral  and  allegorical  sense,  just  as  in  our  days 
many  people  read  in  a spiritual  sense  the  stories,  not  always 
quite  edifying,  of  Jacob  and  Joseph,  of  Jael  and  Elijah.  We 
see  clearly  from  the  writings  of  Plato  and  Sophocles  how  even 
gods  who  originated  in  naturalism  could  serve  to  give  a sanc- 
tion to  morality,  and  a bond  to  civic  life.  In  the  case  of  many 
of  the  deities,  especially  the  great  trinity  of  Zeus,  Apollo  and 
Athena,  the  ethical  and  civic  interpretation  quite  supersedes 
that  which  was  more  primitive,  at  all  events  on  the  surface  of 
society. 

Working  on  lines  parallel  to  those  followed  by  the  statesman 
and  the  poet,  the  Greek  artist  took  up  the  task  of  adding  a 
certain  degree  of  moral  and  spiritual  elevation  to  mere  physical 
beauty.  In  the  sixth  century  the  type  of  Apollo  is  scarcely 
different  from  that  of  the  athlete,  save  that  his  long  flow- 
ing hair  reminds  us  that  the  hair  of  the  sun-god  stands  for 
the  rays  of  the  sun.  But  in  the  time  of  the  maturity  of 
sculpture  Apollo  has  a majesty  beyond  that  of  a mere  human 
being.  When  the  Apollo  of  the  West  Pediment  was  found  at 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


87 


Olympia,  no  one  doubted  that  it  was  Apollo,  and  not,  as  Pau- 
sanias  says,  Peirithous.  The  Zeus  and  the  Athena  of  Pheidias 
were  far  above  the  level  of  ordinary  life,  and  ancient  critics 
said  of  them  that  they  not  only  embodied  but  raised  the  reli- 
gious beliefs  of  the  people.  Of  course  to  a modern  eye,  largely 
influenced  by  Christian  ideas  of  religion,  they  seem  somewhat 
fleshly.  The  Greeks  stopped  at  a measure  of  moral  and  religious 
idealism  with  which  plastic  art  could  fairly  cope.  But  this  is 
not  saying  that  their  art  was  wanting  in  religion : they  keenly 
appreciated  some  sides  of  religion  to  which  we  perhaps  are 
indifferent,  and  indifferent  to  our  loss. 

Another  thing  which  we  must  not  forget  is  the  close  relatiori 
of  the  deity  to  the  community.  Greece  was  made  up  of  city- 
states,  of  communities  dwelling  within  boundary  walls,  and 
united  in  themselves  by  all  sorts  of  ties,  of  language,  of  race, 
of  history.  They  had  common  ancestors  who  were  supposed 
to  be  still  anything  but  indifferent  to  the  prosperity  and  happi- 
ness of  their  descendants,  and  even  sometimes  came  to  their 
aid  in  battle.  And  alike  the  city,  and  the  clans  and  families 
of  which  it  was  composed,  united  in  common  worship  of  ances- 
tral deities,  who  represented  the  general  life,  and  embodied  the 
ideal  personality  of  the  community.  Hera  at  Argos  and 
Athena  at  Athens  were  especially  representative  of  those  cities. 
All  through  the  history  of  Greek  art  Athena  retains  her  arms, 
her  helmet  and  spear,  save  in  a few  exceptional  cases.  Now  an 
armed  woman  is  totally  foreign  to  all  Greek  ideas.  And  there 
is  a curious  inconsistency  between  the  thoughtful  face  and 
rounded  limbs  of  Athena  and  her  martial  equipment.  We  must 
never  lose  sight  of  the  fact  that  Athena  had  at  Athens  become 
closely  identified  with  the  corporate  personality  of  the  city  over 
which  she  presided.  She  had  to  embody  that  city  in  all  its 
activities,  in  arms  as  goddess  of  victory,  in  arts  as  the  mistress 
of  poets  and  sculptors,  while  as  Athena  Ergane  she  presided 
over  the  industries  of  the  town,  and  as  Hygieia  she  bestowed 


88 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


health  and  beauty.  Xo  Athenian  who  loved  his  city  could 
speak  with  disrespect  of  Athena.  Her  worship  was  the  means 
by  which  the  general  life  came  to  the  help  of  the  individual. 

It  was  a strong  testimony  to  the  value  of  the  art-type  of 
Athena,  when  the  Romans  adopted  it  for  the  impersonation  of 
the  great  conquering  city  of  Rome.  They  found  no  better 
way  of  fixing  the  eyes  of  the  peoples  whom  they  conquered  on 
their  august  mistress.  And  at  this  day  we  have  only  to  look 
at  the  reverse  type  of  an  English  penny  to  see  a figure  of  Britan- 
nia, who  is  a remote  echo  of  the  goddess  of  Athens.  At  the  end 
of  the  fourth  century,  when  Seleucus  founded  the  great  city  of 
Antioch,  the  central  point  of  its  religion  was  the  temple  of  the 
Fortune  of  the  city,  in  which  was  placed  the  beautiful  seated 
statue  of  the  city  by  Eutychides.  This  was  no  mere  embel- 
lishment, but  an  object  of  real  cultus.  We  are  told  that  it 
was  held  in  highest  honour  by  the  people  of  Antioch ; and  it  no 
doubt  greatly  helped  them  to  realize  the  future  which  lay  before 
the  city,  and  to  think  highly  of  their  destiny  in  the  world. 

The  Zeus  of  Olympia  was  more  than  merely  civic,  he  was 
national.  He  represented  the  Greek  race  as  superior  to  the 
surrounding  barbarians.  In  his  worship  Hellenes  from  the 
Crimea,  from  Cyprus,  from  Cyrene,  and  all  the  ends  of  the 
Greek  world,  became  united  in  a close  brotherhood.  A jour- 
ney to  Olympia  was  as  true  a pilgrimage  as  is  now  a voyage  to 
Mecca  or  to  Lourdes.  And  the  great  statue  in  the  temple  at 
Olympia  commended  this  spiritual  relation  to  the  eyes  of  all 
visitors,  and  made  them  feel  its  splendour. 

In  the  writings  of  the  orator  Dio  Chrysostom,  expression  is 
given  to  the  feelings  with  which  cultivated  Greeks  regarded 
the  great  statue.  “Our  Zeus,”  he  says,  “ is  peaceful  and  kindly 
to  all,  as  beseems  a ruler  watching  over  a Greece  without  strife, 
and  united.”  Pheidias  set  him  up  “gentle  and  dignified  in 
form,  raised  above  all  pain,  giver  of  life  and  all  it  needs,  and  all 
good  things,  father  and  saviour  and  guardian  of  all  men,” 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


89 


Dio  adds  that  “if  a man  were  in  sore  anguish  of  heart,  having 
encountered  many  mischances  and  sorrows  in  life,  so  that  he 
could  not  partake  of  gentle  sleep ; if  he  came  into  the  presence 
of  this  image,  he  would  forget  all  the  sadness  and  severity  of 
human  life.”  Another  late  writer,  Maximus  of  Tyre,  defends 
the  veneration  of  images  in  words  of  wisdom.  “The  Greek 
custom  is  to  represent  the  gods  by  the  most  beautiful  things 
on  earth,  pure  material,  the  human  form,  consummate  art. 
The  idea  of  those  who  make  divine  images  in  human  shape 
is  quite  reasonable,  since  the  spirit  of  man  is  nearest  of  all 
things  to  God,  and  most  god-like.” 

Not  only  the  Greek,  but  human  nature  everywhere  is  incu- 
rably anthropomorphic.  Some  of  the  greatest  of  Christian 
artists  have  tried  to  embody  in  painting  the  supreme  Deity  of 
Christendom.  And  where  have  they  gone,  where  could  they  go 
for  a model  but  to  the  ideal  Father  of  Pheidias  ? 

Thus  art  contributed,  as  well  as  literature,  to  the  formation 
of  a noble  Pantheon.  When  we  read  in  the  pages  of  Pausanias 
of  the  archaic  and  unworthy  tales  told  of  the  Gods  in  the  various 
shrines  which  they  possessed,  we  wonder  that  so  intellectual 
and  civilized  a race  as  the  Greeks  can  have  borne  thus  to  speak 
of  celestial  powers.  And  when  we  go  over  the  ritual  of  cults 
celebrated  in  the  frequently  recurring  festivals,  even  at  so 
enlightened  a city  as  Athens,  we  find  them  full  of  a not  very 
clean  symbolism,  and  kept  on  the  level  of  the  less  refined  spec- 
tators. But  writers  like  Pindar  and  Aeschylus  knew  how  to 
refine  the  legend  or  to  interpret  the  ritual  so  as  to  raise  them  to 
an  ethical  level.  Great  sculptors  moved  on  the  same  lines,  so 
long  as  Greek  polytheism  was  a living  religion.  It  was  largely 
due  to  them  that  general  national  types  of  the  deities  super- 
seded the  notions  in  regard  to  them  which  had  been  attached 
from  prehistoric  days  to  particular  localities.  And  thus  Hel- 
lenes dispersed  over  the  shores  of  the  Mediterranean  could 
feel,  when  they  met,  that  they  had  religious  beliefs  in  common, 


90 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


that  Apollo  signified  for  the  whole  race  purification  from  guilt 
and  the  voice  of  higher  wisdom  which  spoke  in  the  oracles, 
and  that  the  common  paternity  of  Zeus  gave  to  every  one  a 
standing  of  diginity  in  face  of  the  unforeseen  and  scarcely  com- 
prehensible misfortunes  and  catastrophes  of  life. 


Fig.  11.  — Artemis  ; relief  from  Olympia. 


The  essential  difference  between  the  religious  art  of  the 
Oriental  nations,  Babylonians,  Assyrians,  Egyptians,  and 
Ilittites  on  the  one  hand,  and  that  of  the  Greeks  on  the  other 
was  that,  while  the  representations  of  the  Gods  in  Oriental 
art  were  symbolic,  in  Hellenic  art  they  were  humanist.  The 
Egyptian  or  Babylonic  artist  distinguished  his  gods  and  god- 
desses one  from  another  by  some  symbolic  mark,  by  the  animal 


VI  THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS  91 

heads  which  he  put  on  them,  by  the  attributes  in  their  hands, 
or  by  their  dress.  Deities  were  depicted  by  them  often  in 
monstrous  forms,  part  man  and  part  beast,  the  combination 
having  a meaning  which  only  the  priest  could  explain.  If  a 
Babylonic  artist  wished  to  depict  the  swiftness  of  a deity, 
he  would  give  him  wings : and  these  wings  are  not  meant  to  fly 
with,  but  only  to  be  worn  as  a sign.  If  he  wished  to  represent 
a deity’s  power  over  the  animal  creation,  he  would  place  in 
his  hands,  in  conventional  or  heraldic  arrangement,  a pair 
of  lions,  or  of  stags  or  of  birds.  In  the  place  of  animals  thus 
carried  we  also  find  monsters  such  as  griffins,  who  probably 
stand  for  evil  demons. 

In  the  earliest  stages  of  Greek  art,  as  indeed  in  the  art  of  the 
Mycenaean  Age,  we  find  similar  representations.  For  example, 
on  a bronze  plaque  from  Olympia  (Fig.  11)  we  find  a female 
figure  bearing  wings  and  holding  in  each  hand  by  the  hind  leg 
a lion.  With  regard  to  the  interpretation  of  such  figures, 
Pausanias  gives  us  valuable  information.  Speaking  of  the 
wooden  chest  dedicated  at  Olympia  by  the  family  of  Cypselus 
of  Corinth,  and  adorned  with  scenes  from  mythology,  he 
observes : 1 “ There  is  Artemis,  who  in  consequence  of  some 
story  or  other,  has  wings  on  her  shoulders,  and  bears  in  her 
right  hand  a panther  and  in  her  other  hand  a lion.”  In  early 
Greek  art,  then,  so 
Hellenic  a deity  as 
Artemis  could  appear 
in  this  strange  foreign 
guise.  At  Ephesus, 
even  in  the  time  of 
St.  Paul,  the  Greek  in- 
habitants worshipped 
their  Artemis  or  Diana  in  the  form  of  a rude  misshapen 
image,  whose  many  breasts  indicated  the  rich  and  abundant 
life  of  the  valley  of  the  river  Cayster  (Fig.  12). 


1 Pausanias , V.  19,  5. 


92 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


As  Greek  art  grew  towards  maturity,  it  discarded  this  inar- 
tistic and  conventional  symbolism.  As  Aristotle  observes, 
a work  of  art  should  not  be  a symbol  but  a representation.  It 
is  true  that  the  deities  to  the  last,  especially  in  their  formal 
cultus  images,  retained  attributes  indicating  their  special 
provinces  or  functions ; Zeus  as  master  of  the  sky  carrying  the 
thunderbolt,  Apollo  as  god  of  music  the  lyre,  the  huntress 
Artemis  the  bow,  Hermes  the  herald’s  staff,  and  the  like.  Wings 
were  still  added  in  some  cases  : placed  on  the  feet  of  Hermes  they 
indicated  his  agility,  placed  on  the  shoulders  of  Eros  they 
reminded  men  of  the  fleeting  character  of  love.  But  these 
attributes  were  little  more  than  survivals ; in  the  meantime  the 
Greek  artists  had  discovered  a more  excellent  way  for  indicating 
the  character  and  the  functions  of  the  deities.  It  was  a slow 
and  gradual  process,  which  we  can  still  trace  by  the  aid  of  extant 
works  of  art. 

The  later  fashion  was  to  incorporate  in  the  human  figures 
of  the  gods  their  character.  When  the  barbarous  people  of 
Lystra  saw  the  power  of  St.  Paul  over  physical  infirmity,  they 
exclaimed:  “The  gods  are  come  down  to  us  in  the  likeness 

of  men.”  And  it  was  in  essentially  human  likeness  that  Greeks 
embodied  the  gods.  The  type  of  Zeus,  the  father  of  gods  and 
men,  was  derived  from  that  of  the  Greek  citizen-father,  as  we 
see  him  in  the  Athenian  sepulchral  reliefs,  seated  among  his 
children.  Only  in  his  fatherhood  there  is  something  more 
than  human.  The  type  of  Apollo  and  of  Hermes  is  that  of  the 
young  athlete,  in  all  the  glory  of  perfect  symmetry  and  agile 
force ; only  the  face  is  not  that  of  an  ordinary  athlete.  The 
type  of  Aesculapius  is  that  of  the  responsible  middle-aged 
family  physician  idealized ; that  of  Artemis  is  taken  from  the 
active  virgins  of  Laconia,  skilled  in  athletic  sports,  and  ready 
with  the  bow.  If  we  compare  a fine  later  type  of  Artemis, 
the  well-known  “Diane  de  Versailles,”  with  the  early  types  of 
Artemis  above-mentioned,  we  shall  see  how  a mere  external 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


93 


symbolism  gave  place  to  an  incorporation  in  the  figure  itself  of 
its  divine  attributes.  The  swiftness  of  the  deity  is  no  longer 
represented  by  the  addition  of  merely  symbolic  wings,  but 
is  seen  in  her  tall 
and  strongly  knit 
frame,  full  of  an  ac- 
tive litheness.  The 
power  over  the  ani- 
mal creation  which 
belonged  to  the  god- 
dess is  no  longer 
represented  by  plac- 
ing two  lions  or  two 
stags  in  her  hands, 
but  1 by  the  deer 
which  runs  beside 
her,  no  longer  a 
mere  captive,  but 
a willing  votary. 

Even  barbarous  art 
might  easily  repre- 
sent a deity  of  wild 
nature  as  drawing 
the  bow,  and  such 
a figure  may  be 
found  on  Myce- 
naean gems.1  The 
superiority  of  the 
Greek  rendering  lies  in  the  harmonious  and  ideal  character 
of  the  statue,  which  represents  not  a mere  woman,  but  a 
being  of  perpetual  youth  and  vigour.  It  differs  from  the 
works  of  barbarous  art  as  a Greek  poem  differs  from  a 
rudely  cut  pictographic  legend. 


Fig.  13. — Artemis  of  Versailles. 


1 Furtwangler,  Antike  Gemmen , PL  II.,  24. 


94 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Generally  speaking,  in  later  art  the  gods  are  almost  wholly 
humanized.  Most  people  will  think  that  in  the  fourth  century 
this  tendency  was,  by  Praxiteles  and  others,  carried  too  far, 
so  as  to  ruin  the  divine  dignity.  The  Apollo  Sauroctonus  of 
Praxiteles  is  not  manly  nor  serious ; his  satyr  has  nothing  to 
distinguish  him  from  a shepherd  boy  save  the  pointed  ears; 
his  Aphrodite  is  represented  in  the  not  very  dignified  occupation 
of  bathing.  After  this  somewhat  frivolous  treatment  of  the 
gods,  a sign  that  belief  in  them  was  dying  down,  there  was  a 
reaction,  and  some  of  the  divine  types  from  the  school  of  Lysip- 
pus and  by  Hellenistic  artists  are  of  more  dignified  character. 
And  a certain  degree  of  mysticism  may  be  found  in  some  of  the 
new  types,  for  example,  in  the  head  of  Sarapis,  the  god  of  the 
world  of  the  dead,  or  in  the  great  group  of  Demeter  and  Per- 
sephone set  up  by  Damophon  at  Lycosura  in  Arcadia,  one  of 
the  seats  of  their  mystic  cult. 

In  some  ways,  no  doubt,  the  spiritual  and  ethical  level  of 
modern  Christianity  is  far  higher  than  that  of  the  Olympian 
religion.  Such  phrases  as  “ loving  the  will  of  God,”  “the  divin- 
ity of  self-sacrifice,”  “the  beauty  of  holiness,”  are  at  a higher 
level  than  the  Greek.  But  the  Greek  conception  that  every 
act  of  life,  all  our  emotions  and  energies,  bring  us  into  relations 
with  the  divine  element  in  the  world  is  one  which  we  have  almost 
forgotten,  and  which  but  for  the  present  working  of  Greek  litera- 
ture in  education  we  might  entirely  forget.  And  we  see  on  all 
sides  of  us,  beneath  the  thin  crust  of  material  civilization, 
tendencies  which  work  in  the  direction  of  a much  more  backward 
religion  than  that  of  the  Greeks.  The  materialized  Catholicism 
of  the  peasants  in  remote  districts  in  Italy  or  Syria  is  much  on  a 
level  with  the  primitive  beliefs  out  of  which  the  splendid  temple 
of  Hellenic  religion  arose.  Among  ourselves,  the  fashionable 
women  who  resort  to  the  fortune-tellers  of  Regent  Street  cer- 
tainly cannot  look  down  upon  those  who  in  Greece  resorted  to 
the  oracles  of  Zeus  and  Apollo  in  honest  search  for  the  better  line 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


95 


of  conduct.  The  individualists  who  feel  no  sense  of  duty  to  the 
state  and  society  would  be  infinitely  improved  if  they  could 
find  in  the  beauty  of  a statue  an  expression  of  the  divinity  of  the 
common  life  of  the  city  or  the  state.  Many  of  the  tendencies  to 
be  traced  in  our  religious  societies  point  backwards  towards 
sheer  barbarism.  And  the  influence  of  many  schools  of  modern 
art  tells  not  merely  towards  artistic  chaos  but  towards  ethi- 
cal degradation.  Of  course  not  all  Greek  art  moved  towards 
what  was  noble.  Their  lighter  art  often  mixes  up  what  is  in- 
decent with  what  is  amusing.  But  the  sculpture  of  the  temple 
and  the  market-place  in  the  great  ages  is  as  constantly  ideal 
as  the  dramas  of  Aeschylus  and  Sophocles.  In  this  respect  no 
people  that  ever  existed  can  be  compared  with  the  Hellenic  race. 

In  the  great  work  of  Professor  Overbeck  on  the  types  of  the 
deities,  the  Kunstmythologie,  we  constantly  find  the  question 
raised : What  sculptor  is  responsible  for  the  type  of  such 
and  such  a deity  ? Overbeck  maintains  that  nearly  always  it 
is  one  or  two  great  sculptors  who  fixed  for  all  time  the  type 
of  each,  just  as  the  Homeric  poems  fixed  for  all  time  the  po- 
etic character  of  many  of  them.  Overbeck  perhaps  falls  into 
the  fault  of  over-schematizing.  But  still  it  is  quite  true  that 
when  once  a high  type  had  been  fixed  for  a deity  in  sculpture, 
that  type  was  seldom  afterwards  lost  sight  of  or  entirely  super- 
seded. At  a moment  which  can  be  fixed,  the  fruit  was  ripe, 
and  afterwards  it  began  to  decay.  The  types  of  Zeus  and  Athena 
were  founded  by  the  splendid  colossal  statues  of  Pheidias ; the 
type  of  Dionysus  was  fixed  for  later  art  in  the  school  of  Prax- 
iteles; thapof  Poseidon  in  the  school  of  Lysippus.  It  almost 
seems  that  when  once  the  national  idea  had  been  fully  ex- 
pressed by  an  artist  whom  it  inspired,  it  receded  like  the  sea 
when  it  has  touched  high-water  mark. 

The  heroes  of  Greek  legend  and  of  ancestral  cult  are  depicted 
in  art  at  a lower  level  than  the  deities,  indeed  they  appear  as 


96 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


what  they  were,  men  raised  to  a higher  level  by  achievement  and 
consecrated  by  death.  In  an  art  so  ideal,  and  so  much  more 
fond  of  the  type  than  of  the  individual,  such  heroes  as  Heracles, 


Fig.  14.  — Apollo  and  Artemis  in  a marriage  procession.  Vase  at  Berlin. 


Jason  or  Achilles  would  naturally  make  their  way  into  scenes  of 
war  or  of  achievement  rather  than  contemporary  men  of  every 
day.  Exactly  the  same  holds  of  the  Greek  drama,  which  was 
carefully  raised  above  the  level  of  ordinary  life  by  the  selection  of 


VI 


THE  TYPES  OF  THE  GODS 


97 


themes  taken  from  myth,  and  the  arrangement  of  dramatic 
costume  and  scenery  so  as  to  contrast  with  those  of  every  day. 
At  first  the  student  of  Greek  art  is  surprised  to  find  that  in 
reliefs  and  vase-paintings  the  gods  mingle  freely  with  men,  and 
at  a hasty  glance  are  not  to  be  distinguished  from  them.  But  he 
soon  realizes  that  by  this  custom  the  deities  and  heroes  are 
not  vulgarized ; but  the  events  of  life  are  raised  to  an  ideal  level. 
If  Apollo,  for  example,  makes  his  appearance,  lyre  in  hand,  in  a 
human  marriage  procession  (Fig.  14), 1 he  is  represented  as 
present  not  to  the  eyes,  but  to  the  spirit ; his  partaking  of  the 
ceremony  shows  that  it  has  a religious  side  and  is  in  accord  with 
the  will  of  the  gods.  If  Dionysus  comes  to  feast  with  a human 
votary,  his  presence  shows  that  there  is  in  mere  human  enjoy- 
ment a furtherance  of  life,  which  adds  to  happiness  and  is 
pleasing  to  superhuman  Powers.  The  Greek  lived  in  nearer 
and  more  equal  relation  with  his  deities  than  the  severity  of 
modern  religion  can  well  understand ; at  all  events  the  severity 
of  northern  religion,  for  to  this  day  the  peasants  of  Italy  and 
Spain  live  on  terms  of  some  intimacy  with  patron  saints,  who 
have  in  a great  measure  taken  with  them  the  place  once  held 
by  pagan  deities. 

1 Wiener  Vorlegeblatter , 1888,  PL  VIII. 


H 


CHAPTER  VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 

Whether,  in  dealing  with  the  principles  of  Greek  representa- 
tive art,  we  should  begin  with  sculpture  or  with  painting,  is 
not  a question  easy  to  decide.  Painting  is  essentially  a freer 
art  than  sculpture,  and  in  all  the  changes  and  improvements 
by  which  art  progresses  toward  its  zenith,  painting  naturally 
takes  the  lead.  To  this  general  rule  Greek  art  offers  no  excep- 
tion. Polygnotus  preceded  Pheidias,  and  the  impress  which 
Pheidias  placed  upon  art  was  in  many  respects  originated  by 
the  Thasian  painter.  Painting  at  Pompeii  has  reached  a de- 
gree of  freedom  and,  so  to  speak,  of  modernity,  which  is  never 
attained  by  ancient  relief.  Thus,  if  Greek  painting  were  in 
our  museums  half  as  well  represented  as  Greek  sculpture,  we 
should  certainly  prefer  to  treat  first  of  the  art  of  the  brush. 
But  unfortunately  Greek  painting  is  but  very  imperfectly 
known  to  us.  We  have  to  piece  together  its  history  from  the 
designs  of  Greek  vases  and  the  frescoes  of  the  Roman  Age, 
whereas  we  have  an  abundance  of  really  good  sculpture  from 
all  ages  of  production.  Sculpture,  therefore,  on  the  whole,  claims 
precedence  in  our  treatment.  We  shall,  to  begin  with,  speak  of 
Greek  art  as  a whole,  and  then  take  up  successively  sculpture 
and  painting  in  their  separate  and  distinctive  developments. 

In  spite  of  what  was  said  in  the  introductory  chapter  as  to 
the  diversity  of  a search  into  the  character  of  a nation’s  art  and 
a search  into  the  origin  of  its  art,  it  will  be  expedient,  before 
treating  of  the  phenomena  of  developed  Greek  art,  to  make 
inquiry  into  its  earliest  distinctive  forms.  For  it  is  possible 

98 


VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 


99 


that  in  the  infancy  of  art  the  national  characteristics  may 
clearly  be  visible.  But  we  shall  only  go  back  to  the  begin- 
nings of  the  art  which  is  distinctively  Greek,  not  to  that  of 
the  Mycenaean  Age,  which  is  informed  by  a spirit  quite  dif- 
ferent from  the  Hellenic. 

Considerable  light  has  been  thrown  on  the  development  of 
early  sculpture  and  painting  in  relation  to  space  and  perspec- 
tive by  the  writings  of  Professor  Lange  of  Copenhagen  and 
Professor  Lowy.1  Lange  has  expounded  in  detail  his  theory  of 
frontality  in  early  art,  a theory  of  which  Professor  Furtwangler 
has  observed  that  its  discovery  is  like  that  of  a law  of  nature. 

This  view  must  be  set  forth  in  Lange’s  own  way.  He  ob- 
serves that  in  all  early  statues  in  the  round,  including  those 
of  Egypt,  Assyria  and  Greece,  down  to  500  b.c.,  a law  is  ob- 
served to  the  following  effect : “ Whatever  position  the  statue 
may  assume,  it  follows  the  rule  that  a line  imagined  as  passing 
through  the  skull,  nose,  backbone  and  navel,  dividing  the  body 
into  two  symmetrical  halves,  is  invariably  straight,  never  bend- 
ing to  either  side.  Thus  a figure  may  bend  backward  or  for- 
ward, — this  does  not  affect  the  line,  — but  no  sideways  bending 
is  to  be  found  in  neck  or  body.  The  legs  are  not  always  sym- 
metrically placed ; a figure  may,  for  example,  advance  one  foot 
farther  than  the  other,  or  kneel  with  one  knee  on  the  ground, 
the  other  raised,  but  nevertheless  the  position  of  the  legs  shows 
the  same  line  of  direction  as  the  trunk  and  the  head.  The 
position  of  the  arms  presents  greater  diversity,  yet  it  is  strictly 
limited  by  the  attitude  of  the  rest  of  the  figure.”  2 

The  reader  must  turn  to  any  representation  of  a human 
figure  in  the  round,  whether  of  Egyptian,  Babylonic  or  early 
Greek  work,  for  illustration  of  this  law.  (See  next  pages.) 
There  may  be  a few  exceptions,  due  to  exceptional  conditions, 


1 J.  Lange,  Darstellung  des  Menschen  in  der  alt . griech.  Kunst;  E.  Lowy, 
Die  N aturwiedergabe  in  der  alt.  griech.  Kunst. 

2 Lange,  p.  xi. 


100 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  YII 


but  in  almost  all  cases  this  psychological  law  holds  with  a regu- 
larity almost  as  great  as  is  found  in  the  working  of  the  laws  of 
nature.  One  finds  figures  stooping,  or  kneeling,  or  in  a variety 
of  other  attitudes ; but  the  frontal  law  still  holds. 

The  law  of  frontality  is  also  illustrated  by  a passage  in  Dio- 
dorus (I.,  98),  who  relates  that  two  sculptors  of  the  sixth  cen- 
tury, Telecles  and  Theodorus,  of  Samos,  were  set  to  make  a 
statue  of  the  Pythian  Apollo.  “The  story  runs  that  one-half  of 
the  statue  was  made  at  Samos  by  Telecles,  while  the  other  half 
was  fashioned  at  Ephesus  by  his  brother  Theodorus,  and  that 
when  the  parts  were  fitted  together  they  joined  so  exactly  that 
the  whole  statue  appeared  to  be  the  work  of  one  artist.  . . . The 
statue  at  Samos,  being  made  in  accordance  with  the  Egyptian 
system,  is  bisected  by  a line  which  runs  from  the  crown  of  the 
head  through  the  midst  of  the  body  to  the  groin,  dividing  it 
into  precisely  equal  and  similar  halves.” 

When  Diodorus  says  that  this  manner  of  representation  is 
Egyptian  and  not  Greek,  he  means  that  it  was  quite  foreign  to 
the  later  Greek  art  with  which  he  was  familiar.  It  does  be- 
long, as  Dr.  Lange  has  shown,  to  Greek  art  before  500  b.c. 

A comment  upon,  or  indeed  an  amplification  of,  the  law  may 
be  found  in  an  unfinished  statue  from  Naxos,  discussed  by  Mr. 
Ernest  Gardner  (Fig.  15). 1 In  this  figure  any  section  cut  hori- 
zontally is  oblong  in  form,  the  front,  back  and  sides  almost  flat, 
with  little  more  than  a bevelling  at  the  corners.  This  seems  to 
show  that  in  producing  the  statue  from  an  oblong  block  of 
marble,  the  artist  may  have  proceeded  by  drawing  in  outline  on 
the  front  and  side  of  the  block  the  front  and  side  aspect  of  the 
desired  statue,  and  then  cutting  right  through  the  block,  perhaps 
with  a saw,  in  both  directions,  following  the  two  outlines.  Out 
of  the  mass  thus  produced,  face,  legs  and  arms  would  be  roughly 
cut,  the  transition  from  front  to  side  would  be  smoothed  over, 
and  the  result  would  be  approximately  of  the  form  required. 

1 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,  Vol.  XI.,  p.  130. 


Fig.  15.  — Unfinished  statue,  Athens. 


102 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Whether  or  not  the  sculptor  actually  took  this  course,  it  is 
the  logical  way  of  carrying  out  his  design. 

Figures  thus  worked  are  clearly  thought  out  in  two  aspects 
only,  the  front  and  the  side  view.  We  may  conceive  them  as 
built  about  two  upright  planes  which  cut  each  other  at  right 
angles.  This  is,  as  I have  observed,  a further  development 
of  the  system  of  frontality. 

In  line  with  this  unfinished  statue  is  the  further  fact  that,  in 
Greek  painting  and  relief,  figures  are  almost  always  in  early 
times  represented  as  either  full-face  to  the  spectator  or  else  in 
profile ; a three-quarter  view  is  almost  unknown.  And  very 

commonly  one  part  of  the  figure  of 
animal  or  man  is  represented  full-face 
and  another  part  in  profile,  without 
any  proper  transition  from  the  one  as- 
pect to  the  other.  Examples  abound. 
Very  characteristic  is  the  figure  of 
a horse  (Fig.  16)  from  a vase  at 
Boulogne  published  by  Dr.  Lowy : 1 
the  back  part  of  the  horse  is  drawn  in 
profile  to  the  right,  the  head  in  profile 
to  the  left,  while  the  front  legs  and  forehand  are  facing  the  spec- 
tator. One  of  the  metopes  from  Selinus  (Fig.  17)  will  well 
illustrate  the  same  rule.  Here  the  upper  parts  of  Perseus  and 
Medusa,  whose  head  he  is  cutting  off,  are  full-face,  the  legs  of 
both  are  in  profile;  the  horse  Pegasus  is  entirely  in  profile; 
Athena  is  full-face,  except  her  feet,  which  are  in  profile  toward 
the  right.  But  in  no  case  is  there  much  attempt  to  mark  the 
transition  from  one  point  of  view  to  the  other. 

Of  course  sculpture,  even  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sixth  cen- 
tury, did  not  always  represent  figures  as  merely  standing,  and 
made  curious  compromises  in  the  attempt  to  represent  them  in 
various  attitudes.  It  will  be  found  generally  that  when  fig- 


1 Die  N aturwiedergabe , p.  44. 


VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 


103 


ures  in  the  round  are  represented  as  running  or  reclining,  they 
are  intended  to  be  seen  only  from  the  full  front ; for  example, 
the  Nike  from  Delos  (Fig.  18)  and  the  dying  warriors  of  the 


Fig.  17. — Metope  of  Selinus. 


Aeginetan  pediments.  The  transition  in  them  from  full-face  to 
profile  is  managed  not  with  the  same  abruptness  as  in  relief, 
but  still  with  a certain  sacrifice  of  correctness.  To  show  how 
long  this  tradition  lasted,  I add  an  engraving  of  the  Dis- 


104 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


cobolus  of  Myron  (Fig.  19)/  showing  that  even  this  master- 
piece, for  its  age  one  of  the  most  wonderful  of  human  works,  is 
really  calculated  for  the  front  aspect  only : the  legs  are  in  pro- 
file, the  chest  and  face  are  full,  and  the  transition  between  the 
two  is  imperfect. 

As  regards  the  basis  and  origin  of  these  laws  of  frontality, 
there  have  been  various  views.  The  question  is  one  of  psy- 
chology, and  well 
worthy  of  considera- 
tion, as  it  goes  deep  into 
the  roots  of  our  artistic 
and  aesthetic  faculties. 
It  might  be  thought 
that  it  is  merely  the 
result  of  the  greater 
easiness  and  simplicity 
of  representing  an  erect 
as  compared  with  a 
curved  attitude.  But 
this  view  does  not  go 
to  the  root  of  the 
matter : we  require  a 
fuller  explanation. 

Professor  Lowy  has 
endeavoured  to  explain 
the  phenomena  which 
meet  us  in  early  Greek  art  on  psychological  grounds.  He 
thinks  they  all  arise  out  of  inevitable  tendencies  of  the  human 
mind,  anthropological  laws  which  we  may  trace  alike  in  the 
procedure  of  partly  civilized  peoples  and  the  artistic  efforts  of 
children.  I will  repeat  his  views  in  my  own  words,  and  with 
illustrations. 

1 This  photograph  is  taken  from  a cast  made  up  of  the  Massimi  head  and 
the  Vatican  body,  a reconstruction  made  at  the  Museum  of  Munich,  and  thence 
procurable. 


VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 


105 


(1)  Primitive  representations  of  objects  in  Greek  art  are 
based,  like  those  of  all  peoples  in  the  same  early  stage  of  civiliza- 
tion, not  on  any  attempt  directly  to  imitate  a model,  but  on  a 
sort  of  memory  picture,  based  on  repeated  observation. 

(2)  This  memory 
picture  does  not 
equally  reproduce 
all  the  views  of  an 
object  which  are  in 
the  artist’s  experi- 
ence, but  only  those 
views  which  are 
more  typical;  and 
these,  generally 
speaking,  are  those 
in  which  objects  ap- 
pear in  their  broad- 
est aspects.  For 
example,  the  mem- 
ory picture  of  a 
quadruped,  a fish, 
a rosebud,  will 
naturally  represent 
them  in  profile ; the 
memory  picture  of 
a fly,  a lizard,  a 
full-blown  rose,  will 
represent  them  as 
seen  from  above. 

And  they  will  be  detached  from  all  background.  Thus,  the 
full  view  and  the  profile  view  are  the  views  most  natural. 

(3)  The  memory  picture  being  in  itself  weak  is  strengthened 
by  the  putting  together  of  striking  and  characteristic  features 
of  the  object.  These,  however,  are  put  together  not  in  the 


Fig.  19. — Discobolus  of  Myron. 


106 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


organic  fashion  of  nature,  but  rather  as  they  successively 
impress  the  observer.  Hence  the  art  type  will  represent  not 
so  much  a natural  object  as  a mental  construction.  A good 
example  of  this  will  be  found  in  the  well-known  fact  that  the 
sculptured  man-headed  bulls  of  Assyria  have  each  five  legs. 
The  sculptor  puts  together  the  front  view,  in  which  two  legs 
are  visible,  and  the  side  view,  in  which  four  legs  are  visible,  but 
one  leg  serves  in  both  views,  so  that  there  are  five  in  all.  In 
a paper  in  the  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies ,x  Mr.  Murray  gives 
parallel  examples  from  Greece  — birds  and  sphinxes  with  one 
head  and  two  bodies,  and  helmets  with  two  crests,  instead  of 
one  crest  seen  in  two  positions. 

(4)  Of  groups  and  scenes  the  same  rules  hold  good.  If  any 
part  or  element  of  background  belongs  to  the  action  of  the 
group,  it  is  introduced,  but  by  no  means  necessarily  in  objec- 
tive place  and  connection.  When  we  proceed,  in  chapter  XIV, 
to  speak  of  the  set  schemes  usual  in  vase-paintings,  we  shall  find 
abundant  examples.  The  group  as  there  depicted  is  the  group 
not  as  it  objectively  exists  or  existed,  but  as  it  is  supposed  by 
the  mind  to  be.  When,  for  example,  on  a fine  Corinthian  vase, 
Amphiaraus’  departure  on  the  expedition  against  Thebes  is 
depicted,  the  artist  wishes  to  express  the  fact  that  Eriphyle,  the 
wife  of  the  hero,  had  been  bribed  by  the  gift  of  the  necklace  of 
Harmonia  to  induce  him  to  take  a part  in  the  expedition;  and 
this  he  does  by  placing  a necklace  very  conspicuously  in  the 
hand  of  Eriphyle.  As  a matter  of  fact,  the  necklace  would  be 
at  the  moment  the  thing  she  would  be  most  anxious  to  conceal ; 
but  it  is  part  of  the  mental  furniture  of  the  scene. 

(5)  In  the  memory  images  and  the  art  representations  of 
motion,  those  attitudes  are  most  impressive  and  are  usually 
reproduced  which  are  of  longer  duration.  This  rule  applies 
widely  in  art,  as  must  be  evident  to  those  who  have  studied 
instantaneous  photographs,  which  constantly  represent  men 

1 For  1881,  p.  318;  PI.  XV. 


VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 


107 


and  animals  in  attitudes  on  which  the  mind  never  dwells,  and 
which  are  absent  from  art.  The  ordinary  representations  of 
trotting  and  galloping  horses  in  the  art  of  all  nations  do  not 
accurately  represent  the  horses  at  any  moment  of  their  course ; 
but  are,  in  fact,  based  upon  a construction  which  results  from  a 
number  of  successive  optical  impressions. 

The  humanist  and  psychological  character  thus  early  im- 
pressed upon  Greek  art  marks  it  throughout.  We  have  already 
considered  the  meaning  of  entasis  or  adaptation  to  the  eye  of  the 
spectator,  which  governs  the  erection  of  the  temple.  In  the 
same  way  in  all  sculpture  there  is  an  adaptation  to  the  eyes, 
and  through  the  eyes  to  the  thought.  The  modern  artist  in  a 
relief  tries  to  preserve  the  exact  sizes  and  proportions  of  the 
things  he  portrays.  The  Greek  regarded  this  as  indifferent. 
What  he  thought  more  important,  he  has  no  scruple  in  repre- 
senting on  a larger  scale,  gods  than  men,  freemen  than  slaves, 
men  than  the  horses  which  they  ride ; while  the  features  of 
nature,  houses,  trees  and  the  like  are  usually  omitted  altogether 
from  the  background,  or,  if  they  are  inserted,  appear  only  in 
conventional  or  abbreviated  form.  It  is  not  the  world  of  photog- 
raphy which  he  would  depict,  but  the  world  as  a background 
to  human  life.  Even  in  his  use  of  colour,  he  is  not  concerned 
exactly  to  reproduce  the  tints  of  nature;  he  strives  rather 
to  use  colour  to  distinguish  what  should  be  distinguished 
in  nature,  as  well  as  to  produce  a scheme  agreeable  to 
the  eye. 

In  a recent  work,  Dr.  von  Mach  works  out  in  great  detail 
this  subjective  or  impressionist  aspect  of  sculpture ; 1 he  tries 
to  show  how  many  of  the  customs  which  seem  to  us  to  violate 
nature  are  really  adaptations  to  the  eye  of  the  spectator. 
For  example,  it  is  a custom  in  Greek  friezes  to  place  the  heads 
of  the  persons  portrayed,  whether  they  be  seated,  or  standing 
or  even  on  horseback,  at  the  same  level.  It  is  suggested  that 

1 E.  Von  Mach,  Greek  Sculpture,  1903. 


108 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


this  may  be  accounted  for  by  the  fact  that  it  is  less  fatiguing  in 
passing  from  head  to  head  to  move  in  a horizontal  line  than 
to  move  up  and  down  in  a zigzag.  It  is  evident,  however, 
that  this  principle  of  explanation  may  easily  be  carried  too  far. 
Adaptation  to  the  defects  of  the  human  organism  is  far  more 
usual  in  the  later  oratorical  or  rhetorical  period  of  Greece  than 
in  the  earlier,  when  there  was,  in  addition  to  the  humanist 
tendency,  a noble  determination  to  see  things  as  they  exist. 
It  is  the  combination  of  the  study  of  man  with  that  of  nature 
that  produced  the  greatness  of  Greek  art : either  element 
separately  would  have  led  to  grotesque  results. 

It  is  easy  to  illustrate  by  means  of  examples  the  mistakes 
into  which  a misunderstanding  of  the  underlying  laws  or  con- 
ditions of  Greek  art  may  mislead  a modern  observer.  Some 
critics  have  complained  of  Homer  because  his  heroes  are  made 
to  pause  in  the  midst  of  the  battle  turmoil  to  discuss  their 
respective  ancestry  and  achievements.  Others  discuss  the 
action  of  such  dramas  as  the  Agamemnon  or  the  Alcestis , with- 
out taking  into  account  the  strict  conditions  of  the  Greek  stage, 
with  its  masks  and  buskins  and  trailing  robes,  contrived  spe- 
cially to  remove  the  scenes  portrayed  from  likeness  to  the  scenes 
of  daily  life.  Others  suppose  the  speeches  by  means  of  which 
Thucydides  explains  the  relations  of  the  Greek  states  to  one 
another  to  have  been  actually  uttered  by  the  statesmen  into 
whose  mouths  he  puts  them.  In  the  same  way  some 
writers  have  gravely  maintained  that  what  is  represented  in 
the  frieze  of  the  Parthenon  is  not  the  Panathenaic  procession, 
certain  important  elements  of  which  appear  to  be  wanting, 
but  a dress  rehearsal  for  that  procession.  In  each  case  the 
root  of  the  mistake  is  the  same,  the  direct  comparison  of  a 
work  of  art  with  nature,  and  its  condemnation  because  it  con- 
forms to  a subjective  rather  than  an  objective  law ; in  fact, 
ignorance  of  the  grammar  of  the  language  of  ancient  art.  To 
understand  a work  of  art  we  must  consider  not  merely  what 


VII 


FRONTALITY  IN  GREEK  ART 


109 


in  fact  it  represents,  but  also  the  conventions  of  the  artist,  as 
determined  by  his  period,  his  school,  his  range  of  ideas.  We 
must  look  at  it  not  only  in  relation  to  nature,  but  also  in  rela- 
tion to  the  human  spirit,  and  the  laws  according  to  which  in 
various  countries  that  spirit  works  in  the  world  of  art. 


CHAPTER  VIII 


SCULPTURE  : MATERIAL,  SPACE  AND  COLOURING 

Relations  to  Material.  — The  modern  sculptor  works  almost 
entirely  in  clay,  and  thinks  rather  of  the  purpose  and  destina- 
tion of  his  work  than  of  the  material.  But  in  early  Greek  art 
the  distinction  of  the  material  is  important.  The  sculptor  in 
marble  was  also  a stone  mason,  and  cut  his  statue  out  of  the 
solid  block,  as  indeed  did  Michael  Angelo.  The  sculptor  in 
bronze  not  only  furnished  a clay  model  to  the  caster,  but  went 
carefully  over  the  result  of  the  fount,  repairing  flaws,  chasing 
with  a tool,  sometimes  adding  curls,  or  a wreath,  or  a sword- 
belt,  and  the  like.  Works  in  bronze  and  in  terra-cotta  are  alike 
in  being  formed  in  moulds,  as  opposed  to  marble  sculpture.  But 
between  figures  in  bronze  and  figures  in  terra-cotta  there  is  the 
strongest  contrast  of  character,  the  soft  clay  lacking  all  the 
decisiveness  and  precision  which  is  appropriate  to  work  in 
metal.  In  making  moulds  the  artist  must  have  had  this  dis- 
tinction always  before  him.  In  fact,  in  regard  to  sharpness 
and  clearness  of  fabric,  marble  comes  halfway  between  bronze 
and  terra-cotta. 

Down  to  the  middle  of  the  sixth  century  the  history  of  Greek 
sculpture  runs  in  three  parallel  lines  which  seldom  cross  one 
another ; each  school  had  its  own  material  or  class  of  materials 
to  which  it  commonly  confined  itself.1 

(1)  Sculpture  in  wood  with  inlays. — The  earliest  Pelopon- 
nesian artists  of  whom  we  gain  any  definite  knowledge  are 

1 A most  useful  repertory  of  passages  relating  to  the  Greek  sculptors  is 
published  by  Mr.  H.  Stuart  Jones,  Ancient  Writers  on  Greek  Sculpture , 1895. 

110 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  111 

Dipoenus  and  Scyllis  (said  to  be  followers  of  the  fabled  Dae- 
dalus), who  settled  at  Sicyon  about  580  b.c.  Their  pupils  car- 
ried on  the  tradition.  The  material  in  which  they  worked  was 
chiefly  wood,  ebony  or  cedar,  and  ivory.  In  this  school  the 
custom  naturally  arose  of  using  either  marble  or  else  ivory  for 
the  nude  parts  of  the  body,  and  coloured  or  gilt  wood  for  the 
drapery,  whence  came  the  idea  of  the  chryselephantine  statue  in 
gold  and  ivory.  As  early  as  550  b.c.  we  find  statues  in  gold 
and  ivory  of  Athena  and  of  Themis,  the  works  of  two  Spartan 
sculptors.  The  chryselephantine  statue  was  not,  as  has  some- 
times been  supposed,  a late  and  voluptuous  refinement  of  art, 
but  rather  a survival  of  very  early  fabrics.  The  chest  of 
Cypselus  at  Olympia,  one  of  the  earliest  works  of  Greek  art  of 
which  we  have  any  knowledge,  was  of  cedar,  inlaid  with  gold 
and  ivory.  It  is  supposed  that  from  the  ancestral  habit  of 
working  in  wood  were  derived  the  flat  surfaces  and  square  out- 
lines which  are  characteristic  of  the  marble  works  of  the  Dorian 
schools  of  the  Peloponnese.  Since  works  in  wood  do  not  survive 
in  the  soil  of  Greece,  as  they  do  in  the  dryer  soil  of  Egypt,  we  are 
obliged  to  form  a notion  of  the  early  xoana,  or  wooden  images, 
from  primitive  Peloponnesian  works  in  stone.  The  accompany- 
ing illustration  reproduces  a small  figure  in  Laconian  marble 
found  at  Olympia,  which  was  one  of  the  three  supports  of  a 
tripod  (Fig.  20).  It  can  hardly  be  said,  however,  that  this 
figure  preserves  any  marked  characteristics  of  wooden  style. 

(2)  Sculpture  in  bronze.  — The  origin  of  sculpture  in  bronze  is 
not  easy  to  trace.  In  existing  remains  we  can  discern  the  suc- 
cession of  three  kinds  of  fabric.  Down  to  about  550  b.c.  it  was 
the  custom  to  cast  solid  in  the  case  of  small  figures ; but  when 
large  statues  were  required,  to  form  them  of  plates  of  bronze 
hammered  into  the  desired  form  and  riveted  together  with 
nails.  This  process  was  termed  crfyvprjXaTov.  It  is  common 
in  the  metal  vessels  of  Mycenae.  Pausanias  tells  us  of  a 
bronze  statue  by  Clearchus  of  Rhegium  thus  formed ; and  a 


112 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


golden  colossus  of  Zeus  of  the  same  fabric  was  preserved  at 
Olympia.  The  fabric  may  be  studied  in  a bronze  figure  from  a 
tomb  at  Polledrara,  preserved  in  the  British  Museum  (Fig.  21). 
The  second  method  of  working  was  casting  the  parts  of  a statue 
in  separate  moulds  and  then  welding  or  soldering  them  to- 
gether. It  may  be  that  this  improvement  in  method  was  intro- 


Fig.  21.  — Figure  from  Polledrara. 


Fig.  20.  — From  Olympia. 

duced  by  the  Samian  artists,  Rhoecus  and  Theodorus,  who  lived 
in  the  days  of  Croesus  and  Polycrates.  A fine  kylix  at  Berlin 1 
gives  a representation  of  this  kind  of  work  (Fig.  21)  : a sculp- 
tor's workshop  is  shown,  in  which  colossal  bronze  figures  are 

1 Gerhard,  Coupes  Grecques  et  Etrusques,  PI.  Nil.,  repeated  in  many  books 
and  dictionaries. 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  113 


being  built  up  part  by  part,  and  the  surface  finished  with  the 
file.  Later  the  cire  perdue  process,1  which  is  that  used  by  the 
great  sculptors  of  the  Renascence,  was  introduced  into  Greece. 
In  this  process  the  surface  modelling  is  done  in  wax,  which  is 
an  even  more  delicate  and  perfect  material  than  clay. 


Fig.  22.  — Kylix  at  Berlin. 


(3)  Sculpture  in  marble  or  stone . — This  kind  of  sculpture 
had  from  very  early  times  been  practised  in  Babylonia,  Egypt 
and  Asia  Minor,  and  even  in  Greece,  as  the  lion  gate  of  My- 
cenae proves.  But  Dorians  and  lonians  seem  to  have  redis- 
covered it  for  themselves ; for  we  can  trace,  from  the  beginning 

1 See  E.  A.  Gardner,  Handbook  of  Greek  Sculpture , Vol.  I.,  p.  25. 


114 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  the  sixth  century  onward,  a regular  and  somewhat  rapid 
improvement  in  technique,  while  in  the  earliest  works  the  in- 
fluence of  wood-carving  is  sometimes  to  be  traced.  The  first 
school  to  show  some  promise  of  the  future  perfection  of  Greek 
marble  sculpture  seems  to  be  that  of  the  island  of  Chios.  The 
Chian  sculptors,  the  list  of  whose  works  shows  a marked  pref- 
erence for  the  draped  female  form,  worked  for  their  neigh- 
bours, and  the  name  of  one  of  them,  Archermus,  has  been 
found  on  a base  on  the  Acropolis  of  Athens.  Not  much  later 
than  the  bloom  of  the  school  of  Chios  was  that  of  some  of  the 
Dorian  schools  of  Greece  proper,  which,  although  bronze  was 
their  usual  material,  have  produced  admirable  work  in  marble, 
as  every  one  who  has  studied  the  Aeginetan  pediments  knows. 
The  work  of  the  Dorian  schools  contrasts  with  that  of  the 
Ionians  in  that  its  motive  was  predominantly  athletic  and 
military,  while  that  of  the  Ionians  was  more  decorative  and 
soft.  This  contrast  of  the  characters  of  the  two  stems,  of 
which  the  Dorian  may  be  regarded  as  the  male,  and  the  Ionian 
as  the  female,  element,  runs  through  the  whole  history  of 
Greek  sculpture,  the  balance  swaying  in  some  schools  in  the 
one,  in  others  in  the  opposite,  direction.  It  is  impossible  here 
to  trace  even  the  main  outlines  of  the  history  of  marble  sculp- 
ture, which  is  set  forth  in  the  professed  histories  of  the  sub- 
ject, most  briefly  and  clearly  in  Professor  E.  A.  Gardner’s 
Handbook  of  Greek  Sculpture . 

Decorative  and  Substantive  Art.  — There  is  a radical  distinc- 
tion which  exists  between  decorative  art,  which  is  subordinate 
to  the  general  effect  of  the  object  decorated,  temple  or  tomb, 
utensil  or  vase,  and  art  which  is  not  decorative.  The  latter 
is  often  termed  imitative,  but  it  need  not  be  imitative : a 
statue  of  a Centaur,  for  example,  cannot  strictly  be  called 
imitative.  It  would  be  better  to  speak  of  substantive  as 
opposed  to  decorative  works  of  art.  Of  the  actual  remains  of 


VIII 


SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  115 


Greek  art  which  have  come  down  to  us,  nearly  the  whole  is  deco- 
rative. The  greatest  statues  of  Greece  have  wholly  perished, 
and  of  the  lesser  works  of  great  masters  only  a few  survive ; 
nearly  all  are  represented  in  our  museums,  if  at  all,  only  by 
Roman  copies.  On  the  other  hand,  the  decorative  sculpture 
of  temples  and  tombs  has  survived  in  considerable  quantities. 

Thus  it  is  that  our  knowledge  of  Greek  decorative  art  is 
far  greater  than  our  knowledge  of  Greek  substantive  art. 
Decorative  art  is  necessarily  far  less  close  to  nature  and  less 
under  the  dominion  of  the  ideal  than  substantive  art.  The 
relations  between  the  two  are  like  those  between  garlands  of 
flowers  woven  to  adorn  an  arbour  and  the  trees  which  bore  the 
flowers  in  their  entirety.  In  the  case  of  decorative  art,  the 
relations  of  the  representation  to  the  space  which  it  has  to 
occupy  are  primary ; in  it  we  expect  beauty  of  line  and  balance 
of  composition  perhaps  more  than  meaning  and  idea.  In  all 
technical  aspects  Greek  decoration  is  admirable ; and  yet  per- 
haps its  overwhelming  prominence  makes  us  think  less  than 
we  should  of  the  thought  and  purpose  involved  in  Greek  art. 

Relations  to  Space . — These  are  of  course  more  fundamental 
in  the  case  of  decorative  than  in  the  case  of  substantive  art : 
most  important  of  all  in  the  case  of  relief  work.  It  is  usual  to 
distinguish  three  kinds  of  relief,  high,  middle  and  low.  High 
relief  is  deeply  undercut  and  in  some  places  usually  quite 
detached  from  the  background ; the  metopes  of  the  Parthenon 
are  an  example.  Middle  relief  rises  considerably  from  the  back- 
ground, with  considerable  light  and  shade ; the  frieze  of  the 
Parthenon  is  a good  instance.  Low  relief  rises  little  out  of  the 
background ; example,  the  choragic  monument  of  Lysicrates 
at  Athens ; its  affinities  for  painting  are  closer  than  those  for 
sculpture,  and  it  greatly  depends  on  the  use  of  colour.  These 
distinctions  are  convenient,  especially  because,  the  higher  the 
relief,  the  more  the  play  of  light  and  shade  comes  in,  especially 
in  so  sunny  a climate  as  that  of  Greece.  But  they  are  not  fun- 


116 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


damental ; in  fact,  relief  may  be  of  any  degree  of  height,  accord- 
ing to  the  purpose  of  the  artist;  we  even  find  in  some  com- 
positions a mixture  of  sculpture  in  high  relief  with  figures  in  the 
round.  Painting  is  a freer  and  bolder  art  than  sculpture;  and 
the  nearer  relief  approaches  in  character  to  painting,  the  more 
flexibility  it  has.  But  mere  liberty  never  greatly  attracted  the 
Greek  artist ; and  he  was  well  content  to  confine  himself  within 
certain  fixed  limits  of  convention. 


Fig.  23. — Argive  reliefs. 


A good  example  of  early  relief  in  bronze  or  gold  is  furnished 
by  the  designs  engraved  on  a mould  obtained  at  Corfu,  and 
now  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum  (Fig.  23).  It  is  of  Argive  or 
Corinthian  type.  Each  line  or  zone  is  divided  up  by  patterns 
into  quadrangular  compartments,  in  which  we  sometimes  find 
a single  figure,  a swan,  a sea-monster,  or  a subject  from  myth, 
such  as  Ajax  falling  on  his  sword  (line  2) ; sometimes  we  have  a 
balanced  group,  a lion  and  a bull  facing  one  another,  or  two 
boxers  sparring  over  a tripod  which  is  to  be  the  reward  of  the 
victor.  In  the  upmost  line  we  have  a hound  pursuing  hares 
in  a thicket,  a continuous  frieze. 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  117 


The  reliefs  on  the  archaic  chest  of  Cypselus,  of  which  we  have 
an  exact  and  detailed  description  by  Pausanias,1  exhibit  to  us 
clearly  the  tendencies  which  were  developed  in  later  Greek  relief. 
On  the  basis  of  the  description  of  Pausanias,  combined  with  a 
wide  study  of  early  vases  and  reliefs,  Mr.  Stuart  Jones  has 
succeeded  in  producing  a very  successful  restoration  of  the 
decoration.2  The  reliefs  were  arranged  in  five  horizontal  layers. 
In  the  uppermost  and  the  lowest  we  find  a few  long  scenes  with 
many  figures,  the  subjects  being,  Heracles  shooting  down  the 
Centaurs,  Thetis  receiving  from  Hephaestus  the  arms  of  Achilles, 
the  departure  for  Thebes  of  Amphiaraus,  the  funeral  games  at 
the  burial  of  Pelias.  The  second  and  fourth  bands  are  divided 
into  smaller  scenes,  consisting  usually  of  two  or  three  figures 
in  carefully  balanced  schemes.  The  midmost  band  is  a long 
battle  scene,  warriors  on  foot  and  in  chariots  all  moving  towards 
the  middle,  a centripetal  group.  In  the  second,  fourth,  and 
fifth  bands  the  names  of  persons  are  freely  added,  and  in  the 
second  and  fourth  in  addition  are  inscribed  hexameter  verses  in 
Corinthian  dialect  describing  the  events  portrayed.  Mr. 
Stuart  Jones  tries  to  show  that  the  long  scenes  resembling  friezes 
show  more  of  Ionic  character,  while  the  simple  scenes  with  few 
figures  usually  go  rather  by  Doric  tradition. 

Large  groups  of  figures  in  the  round  scarcely  occur  except  in 
the  pediments  of  temples ; they  are  thought  out  and  ordered  on 
much  the  same  principles  as  are  reliefs.  We  may  best  discuss 
the  conditions  of  reliefs  and  quasi-reliefs  in  Greek  developed  art 
by  considering  the  sculptural  decoration  of  temples. 

The  Temple.  — Since  a large  proportion  of  the  extant  sculp- 
tural remains  of  Greece  belonged  to  temples,  it  becomes  very 
important  to  trace  their  relations  to  the  form  of  the  temple. 
These  sculptural  decorations  consisted  either  of  (1)  the  pedi- 
ments, (2)  the  metopes,  or  (3)  the  frieze. 

(1)  The  pediments  occupied  the  triangular  spaces  at  each 

1 Pausanias,  V 17.  2 See  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 1894,  PL  1. 


118 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


end  of  the  temple,  above  the  entablature  and  under  the  roof. 
The  Greek  name  for  pediment,  aeTco^a,  is  taken  from  the  shape, 
which  is  like  that  of  an  eagle  with  spread  wings.  As  regards 
both  subject  and  treatment,  the  pediment  was  governed  by 
strict  laws.  The  subject  was  usually  taken  from  the  cycle  of 
myth  belonging  to  the  temple  or  its  deity,  and  usually  the 
subjects  chosen  for  the  two  pediments  had  some  relation  one 
to  the  other : at  Aegina  the  two  expeditions  against  Troy 
were  commemorated,  on  the  Parthenon,  the  birth  of  Athena 
and  her  victory  over  Poseidon,  and  so  forth.  The  triangular 
form  of  the  space  caused  the  tallest  of  the  figures  — that  is, 
according  to  the  ways  of  Greek  art,  the  most  dignified  of  them 
— to  be  placed  in  the  middle ; and  thus  naturally  the  whole 
action  was  concentrated  in  the  midst  in  a fashion  somewhat 
like  the  concentration  of  interest  at  the  end  of  a tragedy,  and 
the  figures  at  either  side  were  of  subordinate  importance.  In 
the  corners  were  commonly  placed  reclining  figures  which 
marked  the  time  of  the  event  (sun  and  moon),  the  place  of 
the  event  (local  nymphs  and  rivers),  or  other  circumstance. 
The  action  which  culminated  in  the  midst  either  flowed  thence 
to  the  corners  or  else  flowed  from  the  corners  to  the  midst. 

A more  exact  analysis  of  an  example  will  illustrate  the  de- 
fined and  rigid  principles  on  which  the  sculptor  of  the  pedi- 
ment worked.  We  take  as  our  example  the  west  pediment  of 
the  temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia,  the  arrangement  of  which  by 
Dr.  Treu  scarcely  admits  of  dispute.  The  subject  here  is  taken 
from  the  marriage  of  Peirithous;  Pausanias  says  that  it  was 
selected  because  of  the  two  most  prominent  persons  repre- 
sented in  it;  Peirithous  was  son  of  Zeus  and  Theseus  descended 
from  Pelops.  The  connection  is  not  very  close;  in  fact,  one 
suspects  Attic  influence  in  the  choice  of  the  subject,  since  at 
Athens  Peirithous  and  Theseus  were  closely  associated.  How- 
ever that  be,  what  is  clear  is  that  the  sculptor  at  Olympia 
had  to  compose  a pediment  representing  the  violent  conduct  of 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  119 


the  Centaurs  invited  to  the  wedding,  and  the  fashion  in  which 
the  bridegroom  and  his  friend  Theseus  punished  them.  In  the 
midst  of  the  pediment  (Fig.  24),  like  the  tongue  of  a balance 
between  two  evenly  poised  scales,  stands  the  dignified  figure 
of  Apollo,  who,  present  invisibly,  is  really  controlling  the  course 
of  events.  We  must  suppose  the  door  of  the  guest  chamber 
to  be  behind  him ; out  of  it  issue  forth  on  either  side  Theseus 
and  Peirithous,  armed  with  any  weapons  they  could  grasp,  in 
hot  pursuit  of  the  Centaurs,  who  have  seized  upon  the  bride 
and  her  companions  and  are  trying  to  make  their  escape  with 
them.  To  each  of  the  heroes  is  opposed  a Centaur,  in  the 
very  act  of  trying  to  lift  his  prey.  And  on  either  side  of  these 
central  groups  are  other  groups,  or  symplegmata,  carefully 
balanced  one  against  another  on  either  side  of  the  middle, 
representing  the  struggle  of  Centaur  and  Lapith,  the  balance 
of  victory  clearly  inclining  in  favour  of  the  latter.  Beyond  lie 
aged  women  reclining  on  cushions,  evidently  slaves  who  are 
crouching  in  terror ; and  outside  these  again,  to  mark  the 
locality,  the  young  and  beauteous  forms  of  Thessalian  nymphs, 
who  look  on  with  that  divine  calm  with  which  nature  watches 
the  struggles  and  crimes  of  mankind. 

The  spatial  adaptations  of  this  pediment  deserve  a closer 
consideration.  Omitting  the  two  nymphs,  which  are  a mere 
framing  to  the  scene,  and  examining  the  groups  from  left  to 
right,  we  shall  see  that  the  numbers  of  figures  in  them  pro- 
ceed in  a regular  rhythm,  132313231;  and  we  shall  ob- 
serve not  only  how  each  group  balances  its  match  in  the  other 
half  of  the  pediment,  but  also  how  the  lines  of  each  group  are 
precisely  adapted  to  its  position.  And  further,  it  is  possible 
to  take  a point  a little  above  the  centre  of  the  pediment,  and 
thence  to  draw  lines  which  shall  pass  as  it  were  through  the 
centre  of  gravity  of  each  group,  following  the  lines  of  its  general 
direction  (Fig.  25).  In  fact,  the  composition  of  a pediment 
is  as  exactly  regulated  as  that  of  a sonnet  or  a Spenserian  stanza  : 


■ 


Restoration  of  W.  pediment  of  temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia  (Olympia).  After  Treu,  Jahrbuch , 1888,  Taf.  5,  6. 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  121 


the  artist  has  liberty  only  in  certain  directions,  and  must  not 
violate  the  laws  of  rhythm.  The  opposite  (eastern)  pediment 
is  composed  on  similar  lines.  The  subject  is  the  preparations 
of  Oenomaus  and  Pelops  for  the  chariot  race  which  was  to  de- 
cide the  future  of  Peloponnesus.  Zeus  is  in  the  midst,  invisible 
like  Apollo  on  the  opposite  pediment.  On  one  side  of  him  are 
Oenomaus  and  his  wife  Sterope,  on  the  other  side  Pelops  and 
his  destined  bride  Hippodameia.  The  chariots  of  the  two  com- 
petitors with  their  attendants  come  next ; the  river-gods 
Cladeus  and  Alpheus  recline  in  the  angles.  Here  the  action 
moves  not  from  the  middle  to  the  angles,  but  from  the  angles  to 


X 


the  middle ; it  is  centripetal,  not  centrifugal.  But  the  whole 
falls  into  groups  as  readily  as  does  the  Centaur  pediment. 
Zeus,  the  competitors,  the  chariots,  the  river-gods,  make  in  all 
seven  groups.  The  rhythm  here  runs  1 4 2 1 2 4 1;  and  side 
balances  side  accurately.  The  lines  of  gravity  here  also  meet 
at  a point  above  Zeus. 

And  in  addition  to  the  order  in  the  separate  pediments,  we 
have  a correspondence  between  one  and  the  other,  especially  as 
regards  the  apex  and  the  corners ; only  that  in  one  pediment 
we  have  parade-like  repose,  in  the  other  strained  action.  To 
modern  critics  of  art  the  pediments  of  Olympia  have  been  a 
great  disappointment  — and  certainly  they  have  not  the  finish 
and  the  charm  of  those  of  the  Parthenon  — but  we  must  re- 
member that  they  were  meant  to  be  looked  at  from  a distance, 


122 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


and  that  they  are  decorative  rather  than  substantive 
sculpture. 

The  growth  and  decay  of  pedimental  sculpture  is  an  interest- 
ing history.  Among  the  earliest  pediments  which  have  come 
down  to  us  is  that  discovered  at  Corfu  in  ground  belonging  to 
the  German  Emperor.  In  it  we  see  what  is  in  fact  a mere 
expansion  of  the  ancient  type  of  the  winged  Gorgon : this 
Gorgon  on  a large  scale  occupies  the  midst  of  the  composition 
flanked  by  her  two  children,  the  winged  horse  Pegasus  and  the 
man  Chrysaor.  On  either  side  reclines  a lion ; only  in  the 
corners,  and  on  a very  small  scale,  have  we  groups  of  human 
beings.1  It  is  a decided  advance  on  this  unsuitable  scheme, 
when  we  find  in  the  sixth-century  pediments  of  the  Athenian 
Acropolis  compositions  making  some  account  of  the  conditions 
of  space.  Here  a usual  subject  is  a contest  between  Heracles 
and  one  of  his  monster  foes,  whose  fish  or  serpent  tail  fits  w^ell 
into  the  corner  of  the  pediment.  A still  further  advance  marks 
the  pediment  of  the  Treasury  of  the  Megarians  at  Olympia,  in 
which  the  battle  of  gods  and  giants  is  represented ; and  the  pre- 
ponderant majesty  of  Zeus  in  the  midst  forms  a centre,  while 
the  overthrown  giants  suitably  fill  the  corners.  In  the  admirable 
pediments  of  the  temple  of  Aphaia  at  Aegina  there  is  a carefully 
thought  out  balance.  In  both  of  them  the  goddess  Athena,  in- 
visibly present,  occupies  the  centre,  and  fallen  warriors  the 
corners,  while  the  spaces  between  centre  and  corners  are  filled 
with  groups  of  fighting  men.  In  the  old  arrangement  fighting 
figure  balanced  fighting  figure  with  a hard  and  mechanical 
exactness,  so  as  to  give  to  the  whole  a puppet-like  appearance. 
But  the  recent  excavations  of  Furtwangler  at  Aegina  have  pro- 
duced fresh  figures,  and  enabled  that  most  learned  and  talented 


1 Not  yet  satisfactorily  published.  See  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,  1912, 
p.  28(5.  Sir  Arthur  Evans  speaks  of  the  smaller  figures  as  “a  work  of  superero- 
gation.” I should  prefer  to  consider  them  as  the  coming  in  of  a nobler  order  of 
ideas. 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  123 


of  explorers  to  reconstitute  the  whole  composition  on  more  free 
and  pleasing  lines.1 

Next  in  time  come  the  pediments  of  Olympia ; and  shortly 
after  them  we  reach  in  the  pediments  of  the  Parthenon  the 
acme  of  pedimental  composition.  Here  instead  of  an  exact 
balance  of  figure  by  figure  we  have  a more  subtle  balance  and 


a 


6 

Fig.  26. 


rhythm.  In  the  east  pediment,  for  example,  we  have  on  the 
extreme  left  two  female  figures  seated  together,  probably 
Demeter  and  Persephone,  with  Dionysus  seated  beyond  them, 
and  turned  towards  the  corner.  On  the  extreme  right,  to  bal- 
ance these  three  figures,  we  have  the  so-called  three  Fates,  of 


1 Furtwangler,  Aegina:  das  Heiligtum  der  Aphaia. 


124 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


whom  the  nearest  to  the  middle  is  seated  alone,  while  the  two 
others  form  a group,  one  sitting  and  one  reclining  against  her, 
so  as  to  balance  the  figure  of  Dionysus  at  the  other  end 
(Fig.  26). 

Of  the  pediments  of  the  fourth  century  we  have  little  exact 
knowledge ; but  if  Pausanias  is  to  be  trusted  when  he  tells  us 
that  Praxiteles  depicted  in  the  pediments  of  the  temple  of 
Heracles  at  Thebes  the  labours  of  the  hero,  it  would  seem  that 
within  a century  of  the  completion  of  the  Parthenon  the  art  of 
choosing  satisfactory  subjects  for  pediments  had  been  lost, 
since  a series  of  combats  is  a most  unsuitable  theme  for  a pedi- 
mental  composition.  If  it  be  thought  strange  that  so  simple  a 
condition  as  the  triangular  form  of  the  pediment  should  prove 
so  trying  to  the  Greek  sculptor,  it  should  be  observed  that 
modern  sculptors  also  have  tried  their  hands  at  pedimental 
compositions,  and  with  very  moderate  success.  It  would  not 
be  easy  to  find  a pleasing  modern  pediment.  Of  course  the 
modern  sculptor  works  at  a disadvantage,  as  the  resources  on 
which  the  Greek  relied  are  not  open  to  him;  he  cannot  vary 
the  size  of  his  figures  in  accordance  with  their  dignity,  or  fill 
the  corners  with  reclining  river-gods.  But  even  apart  from  these 
disadvantages,  the  difficulties  inherent  in  the  form  are  very 
great. 

(2)  The  metopes  were  originally  the  open  spaces  which  sep- 
arated triglyphs  supporting  the  roofs  of  temples;  but  in  the 
perfected  form  of  the  temple  they  were  square  slabs  alternating 
with  the  triglyphs  and  running  round  the  whole  of  the  temples 
of  Dorian  order.  Sometimes,  especially  at  the  ends  of  temples, 
they  were  sculptured.  To  the  sculptural  decorator  they 
offered  series  of  spaces  of  the  same  size  and  square  shape  to  be 
adorned  with  reliefs  which  must  needs  be  bold  and  high,  in 
order  to  be  visible  in  recesses  under  the  roof  and  between  the 
projecting  triglyphs.  The  shape  of  the  field  limited  the  com- 
positions to  two  or  three  figures ; and  the  only  suitable  subjects 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  125 


were  pairs  of  combatants,  or  dramatic  incidents  confined  to  two 
or  three  actors.  Such  series  as  the  labours  of  Heracles,  as  in 
the  metopes  of  the  temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia  (Fig.  27),  or  else 
the  struggles  of  Theseus,  combats  of  Centaur  and  Lapith,  of 
Greek  and  Amazon,  of  Gods  and  Giants,  naturally  suggested 
themselves,  and  were  repeated  with  what  seems  to  us  weari- 
some iteration  from  temple  to  temple.  The  temples  in  the 
adornment  of  which  the  greatest  originality  was  displayed,  such 
as  the  Parthenon,  furnish  us  with  a few  other  groups,  such  as 
scenes  from  the  taking  of  Ilium.  In  the  case  of  this  temple 
some  scenes  are  spread  over  two  metopes ; but  this  was  seen  to 
be  a mistake  in  method,  for  it  was  of  the  essence  of  the  metope 
to  be  a closed  group.  Infinite  diversity  ranging  within  narrow 
limits  of  subject  and  of  composition  was  a thing  which  pleased 
and  satisfied  the  Greek  artistic  taste,  not  only  in  sculpture,  but 
in  all  forms  of  art  and  literature.  The  ponderation  of  the  groups 
and  their  planning  so  as  to  fill  the  space  at  disposal  was  a 
matter  which  greatly  attracted  the  Greek  artist,  and  in  which 
he  attained  an  unrivalled  mastery.  There  are  few  metopes  of 
the  good  age  which  will  not  bear  a severe  artistic  anatomy,  a 
tracing  out  of  the  lines  of  the  composition,  and  its  reduction 
almost  to  a mathematical  scheme.  When  we  treat  in  chapter 
XIV  of  the  composition  of  vase-paintings,  we  shall  go  farther 
into  the  principles  followed  by  the  Greeks  in  the  arrangement 
of  simple  groups. 

(3)  The  frieze  is  by  no  means  invariable  on  a Greek  temple ; 
in  fact,  the  Parthenon  is  almost  the  only  Doric  temple  on 
which  there  is  such  a thing,  though  it  was  usual  in  Ionic  temples, 
such  as  that  of  Athena  Nike.  The  frieze  was  best  adapted 
to  some  continuous  subject.  Often  the  Greeks  used  it  for  the 
representation  of  a battle,  which  could  either  be  represented 
in  a continuous  succession  of  groups  of  combatants  or  broken 
up  into  a series  of  duels,  as  in  the  metopes.  In  some  Greek 
friezes,  as  in  those  from  the  Treasury  of  Cnidus  at  Delphi 


Fig.  27.  — Metopes  of  Olympia. 


viii  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  127 


and  those  from  the  tomb  at  Trysa,  we  have  series  of  mytho- 
logical scenes  of  various  lengths  and  chosen  very  much  at 
random,  like  the  series  of  paintings  on  early  black-figured 
vases.  The  one  instance  in  which  a supremely  successful 
result  is  attained  in  dealing  with  the  conditions  of  the  frieze 
is  of  course  the  Panathenaic  frieze  of  the  Parthenon.  The 
spectator  can  follow  the  procession  there  depicted  from  its 
start  at  the  southwest  corner  of  the  building,  as  the  pace 
at  first  grows  more  rapid,  till  we  reach  the  bounding  chariots, 
and  then  grows  more  sedate  and  stately  as  we  approach  the 
spot  where  the  sacrifice  is  prepared,  and  the  gods  wait  to 
receive  their  approaching  votaries ; on  whichever  side  of  the 
temple  the  visitor  walks  he  will  see  the  same  order  of  pro- 
cession, and  receive  the  same  impression.  On  one  of  the  tombs 
from  Lycia  of  the  early  fifth  century  there  is  a procession  of 
figures  walking  and  riding  in  chariots,  and  on  the  sarcophagi 
from  Sidon  we  find  depicted  funereal  cavalcades ; but  it  must 
be  allowed  that  Greek  artists  do  not  always  realize  the  possi- 
bilities offered  them  by  the  monuments  they  are  set  to  adorn, 
as  regards  subject.  Their  minds  seem  often  to  be  so  set  upon 
overcoming  the  difficulties  of  the  task  by  some  new  arrangement 
of  schemes,  that  they  neglect  the  higher  possibilities.  This  is 
another  form  of  the  rhetorical  tendency  of  which  I have  spoken. 

The  principles  of  balance  are  by  no  means  neglected  by  the 
Greeks,  even  in  the  continuous  representations  of  friezes.  Any 
one  who  visits  the  Mausoleum  room  at  the  British  Museum 
may  observe  that  it  is  possible  in  that  frieze  sometimes  to  select 
a group  and  to  discern  how  on  either  side  of  it  figure  balances 
figure  and  attitude  attitude  (Fig.  28)  d The  same  thing  holds 
of  the  frieze  of  the  monument  of  Lysicrates  at  Athens.  There 
the  figure  of  Dionysus  with  his  panther  is  central,  and  if  we 

1 See  especially  the  figures  on  either  side  of  Series  I.,  8 and  Series  III.,  3 in 
Overbeck’s  representation  of  the  frieze  in  Ed.  IV.  of  his  History  of  Sculpture , 
or  Alte  Denkmaler,  II.,  PI.  16. 


o 

£ 


From  the  Mausoleum  frieze. 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  129 


move  from  the  central  group  to  right  and  left,  we  shall  find  an 
extraordinary  balance  of  satyr  against  satyr  and  pirate  against 
pirate.  But  perhaps  the  most  remarkable  example  of  balance 
in  a frieze  which  has  come  down  to  us  is  the  battle  scene  from 
the  Alexander  sarcophagus  at  Sidon.  This  is  further  con- 
sidered in  chapter  XIX. 

Other  works  of  decorative  art,  not  connected  with  temples 
and  tombs,  are  composed  with  careful  reference  to  spatial  con- 
siderations. This  part  of  our  subject,  however,  is  better  treated 
of  under  the  head  of  painting,  as  we  can  best  illustrate  it  from 
the  designs  of  Greek  vases. 

There  are,  however,  a few  conventions  belonging  especially 
to  sculptural  groups  and  reliefs  which  may  here  be  mentioned. 

Isocephalism  is  the  convention  whereby  in  a continuous  relief 
the  heads  of  the  persons  portrayed  are  kept  as  far  as  possible 
on  a level,  whether  they  be  seated,  or  on  horseback,  or  stand- 
ing. This,  of  course,  is  not  a hard  and  mechanical  rule,  but 
rather  a tendency.  The  frieze  of  the  Parthenon  will  supply 
abundant  examples  : the  heads  of  the  horsemen,  the  charioteers, 
the  walkers,  and  the  seated  deities  are  almost  on  a level. 

The  heads  of  seated  and  of  standing  figures  could  be  thus 
placed  at  the  same  level  only  by  making  the  former  of  larger 
stature.  And  this  brings  us  to  another  sculptural  convention, 
that  of  adaptation  of  stature  to  dignity.  In  groups,  whether 
in  the  round  or  in  relief,  it  is  usual  to  represent  the  figure  of 
greater  importance  or  dignity  on  a larger  scale.  Gods  are  repre- 
sented as  taller  than  mortals,  kings  than  their  subjects,  freemen 
than  slaves,  and  human  beings  in  comparison  with  animals  such 
as  horses  or  oxen  are  represented  in  somewhat  more  than  their 
actual  proportions.  It  is  a result  of  the  idealist  spirit  which 
pervades  Greek  art  and  makes  the  artist  regard  ideal  or  moral 
truth  as  more  important  than  precise  correspondence  with  vis- 
ible fact.  It  is  evident  that  this  particular  invention  was  of 
especial  value  in  the  composition  of  pediments,  in  which  the 


K 


130 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


most  important  figures  would  naturally  be  placed  in  the  midst, 
where  the  form  of  the  pediment  allowed  of  greater  height. 

Colour . — That  this  is  of  the  very  essence  of  Greek  archi- 
tecture we  have  already  seen.  And  as  the  decoration  of  Greek 
temples  consisted  not  merely  in  painted  ornament,  but  also 
largely  in  panels  filled  with  sculptured  reliefs,  it  is  quite  natural 
that  colour  should  have  been  used  largely  in  these  reliefs; 
otherwise  they  would  have  failed  to  correspond  to  their  en- 
vironment. Greek  substantive  sculpture,  as  we  shall  see, 
was  painted ; but  in  decorative  sculpture  colour  was  far  more 
necessary  and  universal.  In  temples  the  backgrounds  of  pedi- 
ment, metope,  and  frieze  were  painted  of  some  uniform  colour, 
against  which  the  figures  of  the  relief  stood  out.  And  these, 
also,  were  tinted  or  painted  almost  throughout,  while  accessories 
such  as  armour,  horse-trappings,  and  the  like  were  added  in 
bronze  or  other  metal,  so  that  the  whole  must  have  produced 
a variegated  and  vivid  effect.  This  is  no  matter  of  mere  con- 
jecture : a careful  examination  of  the  temple  sculpture  found 
at  Aegina,  Olympia  and  other  sites  has  always  resulted  in  the 
discovery  of  considerable  remains  of  colour. 

For  example,  Professor  Brunn’s  examination  of  the  figures  of 
the  Aeginetan  pediments  at  Munich  showed  that  while  the 
naked  bodies  of  the  fighting  warriors  were  only  tinted  and 
thrown  up  by  a dark  red  background,  the  garments  and  armour 
were  strongly  coloured.  The  peplos  and  sandals  of  Athena 
were  painted  red ; the  helmets  of  the  warriors  were  blue,  with 
red  crests.  Eyes,  lips,  and  hair  of  all  figures  were  painted,  and 
traces  of  red  on  some  of  the  bodies  seem  to  have  represented 
blood  flowing  from  the  wounds.  Little  holes  in  the  marble 
show  where  sword-belts  and  ornaments  of  the  helmets  in  bronze 
were  fastened. 

Careful  examination  of  the  sculpture  of  the  temple  of  Zeus 
at  Olympia  led  to  similar  discoveries.  The  background  of  the 
metope  representing  Heracles  struggling  with  a bull  (Fig.  27) 


VIII  SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  131 


was  coloured  blue,  the  bulbs  body  brown  ; the  background  of 
the  metope  representing  the  slaying  of  the  Lernaean  hydra 
was  red,  the  hydra  itself  blue.  The  hair,  lips  and  eyes  of  Her- 
acles were  coloured.  In  case  of  the  pediments,  though  few 
traces  of  colour  remained,  yet  the  rudimentary  way  in  which 
the  hair  and  beards  of  the  figures  were  worked  out  by  the  chisel 
proved  that  much  had  been  left  for  the  brush  to  make  clear  and 
emphatic. 

The  fact  that  Greek  decorative  sculpture  was  painted  has 
been  made  more  familiar  to  modern  students  from  their  seeing 
the  remains  of  the  archaic  temples  of  Athens  now  carefully 
preserved  in  the  Acropolis  Museum.  The  monstrous  male  head 
with  blue  beard  and  green  eyes  which  comes  from  an  early  lime- 
stone pediment,  the  variegated  bodies  of  Triton  and  of  the  bull 
pulled  down  by  two  lions,  have  become  familiar  to  us  and  given 
us  a vivid  notion  of  the  strong  and  even  crude  colouring  of  the 
early  limestone  sculpture  of  Athens.  Two  things  are  made 
clear  to  us  : first,  that  the  colours  thus  used  were  few  and  simple, 
bright  hard  red  and  blue  principally ; and  second,  that  in  their 
use  the  guiding  principle  was  not  the  imitation  of  nature,  but 
the  production  of  a decorative  design.  Blue  hair,  red  eyes, 
oxen  striped  with  green,  are  no  exceptional  occurrences. 

We  find,  as  might  be  expected,  that  in  later  and  more  taste- 
ful ages  early  crude  colouring  gives  way  to  painting  at  once  less 
glaring  and  more  in  accordance  with  natural  appearances.  I 
have  already  spoken  of  the  temple  sculptures  of  Aegina  and 
Olympia.  But  if  we  would  see  the  colouring  of  decorative 
sculpture  at  its  best,  we  must  turn  to  the  beautiful  sarcophagi 
from  Sidon  now  preserved  at  Constantinople.1  On  the  great 
sarcophagus  on  which  one  of  Alexander’s  victories  is  depicted 
(Fig.  107)  everything  is  coloured  — the  background,  the  dress 
and  arms  of  the  warriors,  their  hair  and  eyes,  even  the  bodies 

1 These  are  admirably  reproduced,  partly  in  colour,  in  the  work  of  Hamdy 
Bey  and  T.  Reinach,  Une  necropole  royale  a Sidon. 


132 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  horses  and  men.  But  all  is  softened  and  subdued,  and 
although  a decorative  effect  is  aimed  at,  yet  there  is  no  clashing 
with  natural  appearances.  Dresses  are  of  bright  and  varied 
colour ; but  the  blue  colour  of  steel,  the  reddish  brown  of  hair, 
the  tints  of  flesh,  are  carefully  and  naturally  rendered.  And 
the  painter  has  succeeded  by  some  process  in  so  laying  on  his 
colour  that  it  does  not  conceal  the  transparent  shine  of  the 
marble,  but  mingles  with  it. 

As  regards  substantive  sculpture , our  evidence  is  less  complete 
and  definite.  From  the  evidence  of  the  archaic  female  figures 
found  on  the  Athenian  Acropolis  we  know  that  in  the  days 
before  the  Persian  wars  statues  dedicated  to  the  gods  were 
coloured  almost  as  fully  as  the  pedimental  figures  of  which  I 
have  spoken,  and  on  similar  decorative  principles.  The  female 
figures  dedicated  to  Athena  still  retain  much  of  their  colouring, 
and  we  can  follow  the  bright  patterns  with  which  the  borders 
of  their  garments  were  adorned,  as  well  as  the  painting  of  their 
eyes  and  hair  and  other  parts.1  There  can  be  little  doubt  that 
in  the  course  of  the  fifth  century,  as  sculpture  became  more 
masterly,  it  left  less  and  less  to  painting,  and  that  the  colours 
used  in  painting  statues  became  less  hard.  Yet  since  we  are 
told  that  the  eminent  painter  Nicias  was  employed  to  tint  the 
statues  of  Praxiteles,  we  may  be  sure  that  even  in  the  fourth 
century  statues  were  not  uncoloured.  The  evidence  to  be 
gained  from  existing  statues  is  scarcely  conclusive.2  Many 
experiments  have  been  made  in  the  endeavour  by  colouring 
casts  to  reproduce  the  aspect  of  original  Greek  statues,  espe- 
cially by  Dr.  Treu  in  the  Albertinum  at  Dresden.  But  such 
attempts  are  seldom  or  never  quite  successful,  in  part  perhaps 
because  it  is  impossible  to  give  to  casts  anything  like  the  warm 

1 See  Collignon’s  Histoire  de  la  Sculpture  grecque,  frontispiece  ; also  coloured 
facsimiles  in  the  museums  of  casts. 

2 See,  however,  the  head  of  Athena  in  Antike  Denkmaler,  Vol.  I.,  3,  and  the 
British  Museum  head  in  the  Jahrbuch  des  Arch.  Inst.,  1899,  PL  1. 


VIII 


SCULPTURE:  MATERIAL,  SPACE,  COLOURING  133 


transparent  surface  of  marble,  and  a layer  of  colour  on  them  is 
opaque  and  dead,  whereas  the  colour  on  the  marble  sarcophagi 
from  Sidon  seems  to  be  semi-transparent. 

Perhaps  the  best  notion  of  the  colouring  of  Greek  statues  in 
the  fourth  century  may  be  gained  from  an  examination  of  the 
charming  statuettes  discovered  in  recent  years  in  great  numbers 
at  Tanagra  in  Boeotia.  When  found  these  statuettes  are  as 
bright  as  spring  flowers,  and  although  some  of  their  freshness 
disappears  on  exposure  to  the  air,  yet  enough  remains  to  give 
us  a hint  of  the  appearance  which  a gallery  of  sculpture  would 
have  produced  in  the  later  age  of  Greece. 


CHAPTER  IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 

While  it  is  necessary,  in  speaking  of  Greek  art,  to  insist 
upon  the  human  and  subjective  side  of  it,  it  is  yet  wrong  to 
overlook  other  elements  of  the  greatest  importance.  There 
was  never,  at  least  in  early  Greece,  any  fear  that  art  should 
become  merely  a rendering  of  human  thought  and  emotion 
without  full  study  of  nature.  This  is  made  clear  in  all  parts  of 
this  book  : in  the  present  place  I propose  to  make  a few  general 
observations  on  the  subject. 

As  it  was  man  who  especially  interested  the  Greeks,  it  was 
to  the  study  of  the  human  body,  both  in  itself  and  as  the  abode 
of  the  spirit,  that  the  Greek  artist  especially  devoted  himself. 
In  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries  he  made  rapid  and  uninter- 
rupted progress  in  the  knowledge  of  this  body  in  every  posi- 
tion of  rest  and  of  action,  from  the  extreme  tension  of  the  battle 
and  the  palaestra  to  the  complete  repose  of  the  reclining  posi- 
tion. 

A result  of  the  preponderant  interest  in  what  is  human 
appears  also  in  the  degree  of  excellence  with  which  various 
natural  objects  are  portrayed.  In  the  fifth  century  the  forms 
of  men  and  women  are  admirably  given,  but  the  bodies  of 
children  are  poorly  rendered.  They  appear  in  far  too  developed 
a form,  as  little  men  and  women  ; and  although  doubtless  in  the 
climate  of  Greece  the  bodily  forms  ripen  earlier,  this  is  an 
exaggeration.  Children  do  not  become  simple  and  natural 
until  the  Hellenistic  age.  This  explains,  what  strikes  many 

134 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


135 


artists  with  surprise,  the  poor  rendering  of  the  infant  Dionysus 
in  the  arms  of  the  Hermes  of  Praxiteles.  So  too,  the  animals 
with  which  man  is  familiar  and  which  enter  into  his  daily  life, 
the  horse,  the  dog,  the  bull,  are  infinitely  better  rendered  in 
early  art  than  the  wild  boar  or  the  lion.  Trees,  rocks  and 
other  features  of  the  natural  landscape  are  not  copied  in 
detail  or  with  care ; they  are  mere  background  : any  attention 
given  to  them  by  the  spectator  would  be  taken  from  what  was 
worthier  of  it.  This  may  be  illustrated  by  a tale  told  of  the 
painter  Protogenes.  He  painted  a satyr  standing  by  a pillar, 
and  on  the  pillar  a partridge.  The  partridge,  however,  was  so 
well  painted  that  spectators  took  to  admiring  it  even  more  than 
the  satyr ; on  which  the  painter  in  anger  painted  out  the  bird 
whose  excellence  was  so  distracting. 

Together  with  a greater  knowledge  of  nature  went  improve- 
ments in  technique.  The  law  of  frontality,  of  which  we  have 
spoken  in  an  earlier  chapter,  is  not  strictly  observed  in  Greek 
art  after  the  Persian  wars.  Through  the  fifth  and  the  fourth 
centuries  b.c.  one  may  trace  its  gradual  decay.  Before  the 
middle  of  the  fifth  century  the  line  drawn  from  the  head  of 
a figure  to  a spot  between  the  feet  bisecting  the  body  is  no 
longer  quite  straight,  but  somewhat  curved,  and  the  curve 
departs  with  time  more  and  more  from  the  straight  line.  The 
first  result  is  to  throw  more  of  the  weight  of  the  body  on  one 
leg  than  the  other,  so  that  one  finds  what  the  Germans  call  a 
Standbein , or  leg  which  supports  the  body,  and  a Spielbein,  or 
leg  which  is  bent  at  the  knee  and  free  from  most  of  the  weight. 
In  different  schools  this  balancing  is  carried  out  on  different 
plans ; for  example,  the  solutions  of  the  problem  adopted  in  the 
Parthenon  frieze  and  the  Attic  school  are  quite  tlifferent  from 
those  accepted  by  Polycleitus  and  perpetuated  in  his  statues 
of  the  Doryphorus  and  Diadumenus.  With  the  Diadumenus 
of  Polycleitus  (Fig.  29),  we  may  well  compare  a contemporary 
Diadumenus  (youth  tying  a fillet  round  his  head)  of  the  Attic 


136 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


school  (Fig.  30),  the  difference  in  the  attitudes  of  the  legs  being 
striking. 

Professor  Lange,  with  many  other  writers,  is  mistaken  in 
too  definitely  associating  this  change  with  Polycleitus.  As  I 


Fig.  29. — Diadumenus,  Argive. 


have  already  observed,  it  proceeds  during  the  fifth  century  in 
all  schools,  and  the  merit  of  Polycleitus  does  not  lie  in  his 
being  the  first  to  attempt  the  problem,  but  in  the  particular 
solution  which  he  discovered.  The  words  proprium  ejus  est 
uno  criire  ut  insisterent  signa  excogitasse  have,  in  fact,  been  mis- 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


137 


interpreted  as  meaning  that  it  was  the  great  merit  of  Poly- 
cleitus  to  have  invented  a plan  whereby  the  main  weight  of 
the  body  was  thrown  on  one  leg.  This  invention,  however, 
is  by  no  means  peculiar  to  the  school  of  Polycleitus.  Uno 
crure  insistere  means  rather  to 
move  forward  with  one  foot  in 
advance,  and  in  fact  the  most 
noted  statues  of  Polycleitus 
are  thus  represented  in  actual 
motion. 

The  statues  of  the  Praxitelean 
class — the  Hermes  of  Olympia, 
the  Satyr  of  the  Capitol,  the 
Apollo  Sauroctonus,  and  the 
Cnidian  Aphrodite  — are  all 
similar  in  pose,  and  exactly 
alike  in  being  all  intended  for 
view  of  the  body  from  the  full 
front,  in  which  aspect  alone 
they  display  their  full  beauty. 

Standing  before  them,  one 
notices  in  each  case  three 
things : (1)  that  the  face  is 

turned  so  as  to  show  in  the 
three-quarter  face  position  ; (2) 
that  the  line  which  in  archaic 
statues  is  quite  straight  from 
head  to  groin  is  greatly  curved,  Fig  30  _ Diadumenus,  Attic, 
so  that  the  figures  seem  even  to 

lounge;  (3)  that  the  tree-trunk,  or  other  support  necessary 
to  a figure  in  marble,  is  worked  in  as  part  of  the  group.  These 
facts  give  to  most  of  the  Praxitelean  statues  in  our  museums 
a certain  family  likeness. 

Dr.  Lowy  has  pointed  out  that  there  are  no  standing  Greek 


138 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Statues  which  seem  really  thought  out  in  three  dimensions 
until  we  come  to  the  well-known  figure  of  the  Apoxyomenus, 
which  is  usually  regarded  as  a copy  of  a bronze  statue  of  Lysip- 
pus, the  court  sculptor  of  Alexander  the  Great,  but  which  more 
probably  belongs  in  fact  to  the  beginning  of  the  third  century.1 
The  more  direct  imitation  of  nature,  which  came  in  in  the 
school  of  Lysippus,  though  it  did  not  much  affect  the  work  of 
that  master  himself,  would  naturally  have  the  effect  of  which  I 
speak. 

Passing  down  history  from  period  to  period  we  see  in  the 
progress  of  sculpture  the  gradual  victory  of  practice  and  deter- 
mination. The  line  of  attainment,  of  successful  grappling 
with  the  difficulties  of  execution,  mounts  gradually  in  the  human 
body,  passing  from  the  easier  parts  of  it  to  those  which  are 
more  difficult.  In  the  statue  found  at  Tenea,  and  sometimes 
called  the  Apollo  of  Tenea,  the  feet  and  lower  legs  are  care- 
fully and,  on  the  whole,  correctly  represented.  In  the  statues 
of  half  a century  later,  as  in  those  of  the  Aegina  pediments,  or 
the  so-called  Strangford  Apollo  of  the  British  Museum,  we  find 
a not  unsuccessful  rendering  of  all  the  principal  members  of 
the  body ; only  some  parts  of  the  head  are  inferior.  The  eye 
and  the  parts  about  the  eye,  in  which  so  much  expression  re- 
sides, baffle  the  Aeginetan  artist ; the  mouth,  which  is  so  fre- 
quently in  motion,  he  fails  to  represent  in  repose ; and  the  hair, 
which  is  unsuited  to  representation  in  a hard  substance  like 
marble,  is  given  in  a kind  of  conventional  pattern.  It  is  not 
until  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  that  these  difficulties  are 
met  successfully. 

It  is  especially  in  the  rendering  of  the  head  that  even  an 
eye  not  thoroughly  familiar  with  Greek  sculpture  and  paint- 
ing can  easily  discern  the  stages  by  which  stiff  archaism  passes 
into  perfect  mastery.  The  development  is  slowest  in  the  case 

1 This  I have  tried  to  prove  in  an  article  in  the  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 
Vol.  XXIII.,  p.  130. 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


139 


of  eyes  and  hair,  the  former  the  most  mobile  and  expressive 
part  of  the  face,  the  latter  the  part  to  which  it  is  hardest  to 
assign  a definite  sculptural  shape.  But  before  speaking  of 
eye  and  hair,  the  shape  of  the  head  and  the  proportions  of  the 
various  parts  of  the  face  demand  a few  words.  In  the  sixth 
century  it  is  doubtful  whether  distinct  types  of  head  are  in 


Fig.  31.  — Head  : Doryphoros. 

vogue  in  the  different  schools ; at  all  events,  the  inquiry  whether 
or  not  this  is  the  case  is  too  detailed  and  complicated  to  be  here 
attempted.  But  there  can  be  little  question  that  Professor 
Brunn  was  right  in  maintaining  that  in  the  work  of  the  fifth 
century  we  can  distinguish  between  Dorian  and  Attic  types. 
In  archaic  art,  generally  speaking,  we  may  remark  a decided 
predominance  of  the  lower  part  of  the  face,  the  jaw  and  chin, 


140 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


over  the  upper  part.  This  may  be  the  result  of  the  admiration 
of  athletic  types ; at  any  rate,  it  seems  appropriate  in  a nation 
in  which  physical  development  had  the  start  of  mental  culti- 
vation. In  the  fifth  century  something  of  this  predominance 
still  survives  in  the  Argive  school.  There  the  head,  of  which 
the  Doryphorus  offers  a good  example  (Fig.  31),  when  seen  in 

profile,  is  notably  of 
square  outline,  with 
flat  top  and  con- 
siderable depth  from 
front  to  back.  Again, 
if  the  face  be  divided 
into  three  parts  by 
lines  passing  through 
the  brows  and  the 
bottom  of  the  nose, 
these  parts  in  the 
Argive  head  will  be 
found  to  be  of  nearly 
equal  height.  If  be- 
side this  head  we 
place  one  of  char- 
acteristic Attic  type, 
such  as  the  Hermes 
of  Praxiteles  (Fig. 
32),  it  will  be  found  to  be  less  deep,  and  vaulted  on  the 
top.  And  again,  taking  the  three  sections  of  the  face,  the 
upper  section  will  be  found  to  be  longer  than  the  lower.  The 
Argive  head  has  a more  powerful  framework,  but  the  Attic 
is  distinctly  more  intellectual,  whether  the  difference  be  caused 
by  original  diversity  of  race  or  by  long  habit.  In  the  fourth 
century  Scopas,  to  judge  by  the  heads  from  Tegea,  followed  the 
Peloponnesian  outline,  while  the  heads  of  Praxiteles  are  decid- 
edly Attic  in  type.  But  both  sculptors  agreed  in  throwing 


Fig.  32.  — Hermes  of  Praxiteles. 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


141 


back  the  eye  under  a heavy  brow  and  frontal  ridge,  by  which 
means  the  expressiveness  of  the  face  is  greatly  increased. 

A good  example  of  the  great  difficulty  which  an  object  con- 
fusing to  the  faculties  of  observation  offered  to  the  early  Greek 
artist  is  to  be  found  in  the  case  of  the  human  eye.  Every  one 
who  has  looked  at  early  vase-paintings  will  have  observed  that 
in  them,  when  a face  is  drawn  in  profile,  the  eye  is  turned  full 
to  the  spectator.  The  male  eye,  bold  and  full,  is  represented 
as  circular;  the  female  eye,  more  modest,  is  almond-shaped. 
It  was  only  by  slow  efforts,  extending  over  a long  period,  that 
the  representation  of  the  eye  was  mastered.  It  turns  gradually 


$>  h i 


Fig.  33.  — Male  and  female  eye. 

from  the  full-face  drawing  to  a rendering  in  outline.  Decade 
by  decade  the  drawing  of  the  eye,  alike  on  vases  and  in  reliefs, 
changes  in  the  direction  of  nature,  but  complete  naturalism  is 
never  reached.  On  the  Parthenon  frieze,  for  example,  the  eyes 
of  the  faces  which  are  in  profile  preserve  something  of  the  old 
almond  form.  Towards  the  end  of  the  fifth  century  the  form  of 
the  eye  itself  is  more  correct,  but  even  then  it  is  set  back  from  the 
nose  too  far,  at  all  events  when  compared  with  modern  profiles. 
It  is  not,  however,  merely  the  difficulty  of  representing  the  eye 
which  makes  its  treatment  in  art  so  backward.  We  must 
revert  for  a complete  understanding  to  the  psychological  expla- 

1 Figure  33  in  the  text  is  due  to  Sir  Cecil  Smith : see  the  Cat.  Vases  in  the 
Brit.  Museum , Vol.  III.,  p.  4.  Figures  a,  h are  typically  male ; Figs,  c,  d,  typi- 
cally female. 


142 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


nations  of  Dr.  Lowy.  It  is  difficult  even  now  for  any  of  us  to 
think  of  an  eye  in  profile,  and  still  more  difficult  was  this  to 
more  primitive  peoples.  The  eye  of  all  things  is  that  which 
most  essentially  looks  at  one,  and  so  must  be  drawn  looking 
at  one.  The  study  of  nature  by  slow  degrees  corrects  this 
inveterate  habit  in  art,  but  only  by  slow  degrees.  On  vases, 
even  after  the  profile  eye  has  been  mastered,  we  find  curious 
inaccuracy  in  representing  an  eye  in  a figure  turned  three- 
quarters  toward  the  spectator,  when  it  is  represented  as  either 
too  full  or  too  much  in  profile.1 

The  mouth  is  less  difficult  to  portray  than  the  eye,  whence 
we  sometimes  find  beautiful  mouths  in  statues  of  the  age  of 
the  Persian  wars.  But  in  the  sixth  century  the  ends  of  it  are 
usually  turned  upwards,  so  as  to  produce  an  unmeaning  smile. 
Perhaps  this  curious  result  came  from  an  attempt  to  give  a 
genial  and  pleasant  expression  to  the  head ; in  our  own  time 
many  people  when  photographed  relapse  into  a vacant  smile. 

As  the  representation  of  face  and  head  became  less  formal, 
and  more  according  to  nature,  the  representation  of  the  hair 
as  a mere  pattern  could  not  of  course  persist.  In  the  great 
art  of  the  fifth  century  hair  and  beard  were  treated  as  quite 
subordinate  to  the  face  and  head,  being  both  alike  short  and 
simply  rendered.  It  was  in  the  fourth  century  that  sculptors 
began,  no  doubt  under  the  influence  of  portrait-sculpture, 
to  make  more  of  the  hair  and  beard,  discovering  how  greatly 
they  may  be  used  to  impart  character  to  the  face,  and  how 
much  they  may  be  worked  up  from  the  point  of  view  of  style. 
If  any  one  studies  the  portraits  of  poets,  statesmen  and  philos- 
ophers of  the  fourth  and  following  centuries,  he  will  be  greatly 
impressed,  not  only  by  the  remarkable  beauty  and  dignity  of. 
the  Greek  man,  but  also  by  the  way  in  which  the  arrangement 
of  the  hair  and  the  planning  of  the  locks  of  the  beard  may  be 

1 For  example,  a figure  of  an  Amazon  in  Furtwiingler  and  Reichhold, 
Gricchische  Vasenmalerei,  PI.  58. 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


143 


made  in  the  highest  sense  artistic  and  beautiful,  as  well  as 
thoroughly  characteristic  of  the  individual,  and  of  the  class 
to  which  he  belongs. 

The  rendering  of  hair  and  beard  in  sculpture  must  always 
be  difficult  and  almost  paradoxical.  For  when  we  look  at 
these  outgrowths  we  do  not  observe  definite  forms,  but  rather 
light  and  shade.  And  to  render  in  such  hard  materials  as 
marble  and  bronze  soft  and  flowing  locks  made  up  of  multitudes 
of  hairs  seldom  quite  straight  is  a task  almost  beyond  human 
capacity.  Archaic  Greek  art,  like  the  art  of  Assyria  and 
Egypt,  took  the  only  course  open  to  it  and  rendered  the 
strands  of  hair  as  a sort  of  pattern,  by  spirals  and  waves  and 
the  like.  (See  Figs.  18,  35.)  Above  the  forehead  of  early 
statues  one  finds  rows  of  curls  formed  like  snail-shells,  or  like 
corkscrews,  or  arranged  in  wavy  patterns.  Long  curls,  three 
on  each  side,  fall  over  the  chest,  alike  in  men  and  women,  and 
the  mane  of  long  hair  behind  falls  straight  and  square,  only 
marked  with  parallel  waved  grooves  to  show  that  it  is  made 
of  separate  hairs. 

After  the  Persian  wars,  the  fashion  of  wearing  the  hair  long 
gradually  gave  way  among  the  men.  Yet  in  the  art  of  the 
first  half  of  the  fifth  century  long  hair  was  still  usual,  even  in 
the  case  of  athletes ; it  was  cut  short  over  the  forehead,  and 
the  long  locks  which  fell  down  the  back  were  worked  into  a 
plait  which  was  wound  round  the  head.  As  contrasted 
with  these  athletes,  young  gods,  such  as  Apollo  and  Hermes, 
still  usually  had  curls  falling  from  the  forehead  and  long  hair 
flowing  over  the  shoulders.  The  hair  of  women  was  done  up 
in  a variety  of  nets  and  kerchiefs,  and  was  smooth  over  the 
brows  (Fig.  40). 

In  the  great  age  the  artist  studied  man  from  the  outside. 
In  the  third  century  there  came  a change.  With  the  growing 
individualism  of  the  people,  and  with  the  establishment  of 
great  institutions  for  learning  and  research  like  the  Museum 


144 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  Alexandria,  a new  current  set  into  art.  Anatomy,  in  par- 
ticular human  anatomy,  was  studied.  Some  of  the  great  physi- 
cians of  Alexandria  gave  themselves  up  to  such  research.  He- 
rophilus  was  credited  with  the  dissection  of  600  bodies.  Thus 
the  artists,  who  had  hitherto  been  content  with  what  the  eyes 
see  of  the  human  frame,  learned  about  its  inner  construction 
and  working.1  At  the  same  time  they  took  to  minuter  examina- 
tion of  the  hair,  the  furrows  of  the  skin,  and  the  like.  Casts 
in  plaster  from  the  limbs  of  the  living  and  the  faces  of  the 
dead  were  taken  to  work  by  in  the  studio.  The  result  of  all 
this  learning  appears  at  once  in  such  statues  as  the  Apoxyom- 
enus  and  the  portrait  of  Demosthenes,  later  in  the  Laocoon, 
and  the  fighter  of  Agasias  in  the  Louvre.  But  what  art  thus 
gained  in  precision  it  lost  in  dignity  and  nobility. 

We  may  trace  a parallel  improvement  in  the  technique  of 
relief.  Greek  relief  starts  from  the  surface  of  the  marble, 
on  which  either  with  a brush  or  a chisel  the  subject  to  be  por- 
trayed was  sketched  in  outline,  and  the  cutting  carried  as  far 
down  as  was  necessary.  A very  instructive  example  is  the 
relief  from  Lamprika  in  Attica,  on  which  is  represented  on  the 
front  a young  armed  horseman,  and  on  the  sides  his  sorrow- 
ing relatives  (Fig.  34).  The  outlines  of  horse  and  rider  are 
cut  by  a tool,  and  the  surface  of  the  stone  just  outside  the  lines 
is  worked  away ; but  the  general  surface  of  the  stone  is  on  the 
same  level  as  the  figures.  The  inner  markings  of  the  muscles 
of  the  horses  and  of  the  pattern  of  the  cloak  are  engraved. 
The  relief  is  in  no  way  rounded,  but  presents  a flat  surface. 
This  work  is  exceptional ; it  is  in  fact  a painting  merely  empha- 
sized with  a tool : other  reliefs  of  the  same  period  show  more 
adaptation.  For  example,  in  the  early  relief  from  Sparta 
(Fig.  5),  there  are  several  planes,  one  further  recessed  than 
another,  like  the  planes  in  a carved  onyx;  but  they  are  flat, 

1 This  is  dwelt  on  by  Lange,  Die  menschliche  Gestalt  in  der  Geschichte  der 
Kunst , Part  II.,  p.  39. 


IX 


THE  PROGRESS  OF  SCULPTURE 


145 


there  is  no  rounding  of  the  figures  represented.  Indeed  this 
rounding,  though  of  course  it  was  more  necessary  in  proportion 
to  the  highness  of  relief,  was  not  carried  out  at  all  consistently 


Fig.  34.  — Stele  from  Lamprika  : Athens. 


until  quite  a late  age  of  sculpture.  Anything  like  illusion  is 
scarcely  attempted  before  the  Roman  age. 

In  so  remarkable  a work  of  art  as  the  frieze  of  the  Parthenon 
we  still  see  the  working  of  the  primitive  notions  as  to  relief. 
There  is  no  adoption  of  the  plan  usual  in  modern  reliefs,  of 


L 


146 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  IX 


making  deeper  recessing  wherever  the  object  portrayed  is 
more  remote.  There  is  scarcely  any  perspective,  but  a pro- 
cession of  figures,  each  worked  out  with  a view  to  its  properly 
impressing  the  spectator.  When  we  consider  this  frieze,  we 
must  always  take  into  account  its  location.  It  was  placed 
high  up  outside  the  walls  of  the  temple,  but  inside  the  line 
of  exterior  columns,  just  under  the  roof.  The  only  light  which 
reached  it  was  from  below;  and  it  was  not  visible  except  in 
snatches  to  those  who  walked  round  the  temple,  and  looked 
up  at  it.  It  necessarily  resulted  that  the  whole  had  to  be, 
so  to  speak,  sloped  outward ; and  the  upper  parts  of  the  figures 
were  sculptured  in  somewhat  higher  relief  than  the  lower  parts. 
If  each  man  in  the  procession  had  been  in  all  parts  depicted 
at  the  same  height  of  relief,  too  much  would  have  been  seen 
of  his  legs,  and  too  little  of  his  head.  But,  apart  from  this, 
in  carving  the  individual  figures,  the  object  was  not  to  give 
to  each  part  of  them  the  exact  prominence  which  it  has  in  na- 
ture, but  to  make  each  figure  or  each  group  a pleasing  and 
intelligible  whole.  For  example,  in  the  case  of  Hebe,  her  lower 
part  is  at  a lower  level  than  the  knees  of  her  mother  Hera 
behind  which  she  stands,  but  her  upper  part  is  at  the  same  level 
as  her  mother’s  head. 

To  sculptors  of  a somewhat  later  time  this  want  of  uni- 
formity probably  seemed  unsatisfactory,  as  they  tend  more  and 
more  to  detach  the  figures  in  a frieze,  and  to  represent  them 
by  themselves  as  standing  out  from  the  background.  This 
tendency,  already  striking  in  the  friezes  of  the  Mausoleum,  is 
carried  to  its  farthest  point  in  such  works  as  the  frieze  of  the 
monument  of  Lysicrates  at  Athens.  Then  there  came  a reac- 
tion ; and  Roman  sarcophagi,  for  example,  are  crowded  with 
figures  in  direct  imitation  of  painting. 


CHAPTER  X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 

It  is  necessary  for  every  one  who  approaches  the  study  of 
Greek  sculpture  and  painting  first  to  pay  some  attention  to 
the  character  of  Greek  dress.  For  the  human  figures  which 
are  the  subjects  of  Greek  art  are  in  the  great  majority  of  cases 
clothed.  And  whereas  every  one  necessarily  has  some  small 
knowledge  and  understanding  of  the  human  figure,  very  few 
persons,  even  very  few  artists,  understand  how  Greek  dress 
was  cut  and  worn.  This  dress  was  astonishingly  simple,  and 
yet  in  its  arrangement  so  foreign  to  our  habits  and  notions 
that  many  learners  find  the  greatest  difficulty  in  understanding 
it,  or  in  believing  that  it  was  in  actual  use. 

It  does  not,  however,  appear,  in  all  cases,  that  the  dress  repre- 
sented in  Greek  sculpture  and  painting  was  the  dress  actually 
worn.  There  is  in  earlier  Greek  art  a good  deal  of  helplessness 
and  convention,  and  in  later  Greek  art  there  is  what  may  be 
called  a rhetorical  tendency,  a striving  after  a pleasing  result 
without  strict  adherence  to  fact.  We  must  therefore  be  on  our 
guard  in  taking  the  evidence  as  to  dress  furnished  by  the  monu- 
ments. Works  of  archaic  art  often  present  to  us  elaborate 
systems  of  folds  and  pleats  which  are  quite  conventional,  and 
at  a later  time  dress  has  beyond  doubt  a tendency  to  pass  into 
drapery,  that  is,  into  dress  arranged  not  for  use  but  for  artistic 
effect,  as  foil  or  background.  But  notwithstanding  this,  it 
may  be  fairly  said  that  in  the  case  of  the  great  mass  of  Greek 
statues,  and  even  of  figures  in  painting  and  relief,  the  dress  is  a 
possible  clothing,  and  represents  the  actual  dress  of  daily  life 

147 


148 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


as  closely  as  the  figures  themselves  represent  the  men  and 
women  of  street  and  market-place.  The  ugliness  of  modern 
dress  has  caused  us  in  our  statues  to  adopt  all  sorts  of  fanciful 
and  impossible  costumes  for  our  heroes  and  heroines,  some  of 
which  are  supposed  to  be  Greek  or  Roman.  There  was  nothing 
of  the  kind  in  ancient  times.  The  actual  dress  of  the  Greeks  was 
planned  as  much  with  a view  to  beauty  as  for  use ; its  scheme 
was  charmingly  simple,  and  it  scarcely  varied  from  century  to 
century.  The  degrading  tyranny  of  fashion,  which  makes  mod- 
ern men  and  women  change  the  manner  of  their  dress  every 
year  in  obedience  to  some  unwritten  law  mysteriously  origi- 
nated and  mercilessly  enforced,  was  quite  unknown  in  antiquity. 
It  is,  of  course,  this  rule  of  fashion  which  makes  it  impossible 
for  modern  dress  to  become  beautiful ; for  even  if  it  in  some 
year  by  a fortunate  chance  drifted  in  the  direction  of  beauty, 
the  beauty  would  in  the  next  year  become  unfashionable,  and 
ugliness  would  take  its  place.  Being  exempt  from  the  neces- 
sity of  constantly  inventing  new  modes  of  dress,  the  Greeks 
were  able  by  slight  changes  in  its  arrangement  to  make  it  more 
becoming  and  graceful ; and  these  small  improvements  were 
welcomed  and  adopted  by  artists.  But  the  main  principles 
never  changed. 

The  first  of  these  principles  is  never  to  collide  with  or  to 
violate  nature,  but  to  produce  something  wholly  in  harmony 
with  it,  to  emphasize  what  is  in  nature  most  beautiful,  to  pro- 
duce a commentary  upon  it  rather  than  a perversion  of  it. 
In  the  Mycenaean  age  the  fashion  of  hemming  in  the  waist 
with  tight  bands  appears  to  have  prevailed.  Such  a course  was 
contrary  to  the  spirit  of  Greek  art.  In  the  statues  which 
have  come  down  to  us  the  female  waist  is  scarcely  smaller  than 
the  male.  Its  circumference  is  usually  about  half  the  height 
in  both  men  and  women.  Thus  a figure  of  five  feet  six  inches 
in  height  would  have  a waist  of  about  thirty-three  inches  in 
circumference.  No  doubt  the  build  of  northern  races  is  taller 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


149 


and  more  slender  than  that  of  the  Mediterranean  peoples; 
and  it  appears  among  us  to  be  rapidly  becoming  more  elongated 
still.  But  that  fact  does  not  excuse  the  modern  habit  of  girding 
in  the  waists  of  women.  And  if  many  statues  of  Greek  women 
seem  to  us  to  display  too  freely  the  charms  of  the  body,  we  may 
be  sure  that  the  Greeks  would  never  have  tolerated  the  wearing 
in  the  presence  of  men  of  low-necked  dresses.  The  dress  of 
Greek  women  on  the  materialist  side  is  for  warmth ; but  on  its 
formal  side  it  was  developed  by  the  desire  to  please  men  of 
simple  life  and  fine  aesthetic  sensibility.  So  it  lays  stress  on 
what  nature  regards  as  the  most  beautiful  parts  of  the  body, 
especially  breast,  arms  and  feet.  The  dress  of  men,  on  the 
other  hand,  is  mainly  fitted  to  leave  them  free  for  active  exer- 
tion, the  outer  garment  being  a mere  wrap  to  be  put  on  at  times 
of  rest. 

Naturally  dress,  both  in  material  and  form,  is  largely  dependent 
upon  climate  and  customs  of  life.  Greek  dress  is  only  suited 
to  a gentle  and  genial  climate,  and  to  a society  in  which  men 
and  women  do  not  very  freely  mix.  When  the  artists  represent 
Persians,  Scythians  or  other  dwellers  in  colder  climates,  they 
naturally  represent  them  in  their  own  dress,  which  is,  in  its 
way,  almost  as  graceful  as  the  Greek.  These  peoples  wore 
jackets  with  long  sleeves  and  trousers  fitting  closely  to  the  arm 
and  leg.  The  Greek  artist  thoroughly  understood  the  artistic 
possibilities  of  such  garments ; some  of  the  statues  of  Orientals, 
such  as  the  horseman  from  the  Mausoleum  or  the  draped 
figure  of  Paris  in  the  Vatican,  are  admirable  works  of  art. 
But  the  Greeks  do  not  seem  usually  to  have  been  tempted 
to  adopt  barbarian  dress,  even  when  they  lived  in  colder 
climates. 

A strong  line  of  distinction  must  be  drawn  between  the 
Ionian  and  the  Dorian  dress.  In  dress,  as  in  all  phenomena 
of  Greek  history,  the  contrast  of  Ionian  and  Dorian  is  emphatic, 
and  the  interaction  of  the  two  elements  makes  the  web  of  Greek 


150 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


history.  It  is  true  that  we  cannot  always,  in  the  case  of  early 
male  figures  when  they  are  nude,  tell  the  difference  between 
Dorian  and  Ionian.  And  at  Athens  and  elsewhere  in  Greece, 
female  figures  of  archaic  type  are  clad  sometimes  in  the  Ionian 
and  sometimes  in  the  Dorian  dress.  But  Herodotus  carefully 
distinguishes  the  two,  telling  us  that  the  Dorian  dress  was  fastened 
with  large  pins  or  fibulae,  and  that  the  Ionian  was  not,  that  is, 
that  it  either  required  only  small  fibulae,  or  was  sewn.1  He 
also  says  that  the  Greeks  in  Asia  adopted  a more  Orientalizing 
style  of  dress  from  their  Carian  neighbours.  Already  in  Homer 
we  have  this  distinction  noted,  as  he  speaks  of  the  Ionians  as 
eX/cexiTwves , wearing  chitons  which  reached  to  the  ground; 
and  he  does  not  apply  this  epithet  to  other  Greeks. 

And,  in  fact,  all  who  have  paid  any  attention  to  works  of 
Greek  sculpture  must  have  observed  that,  in  reliefs  of  an  early 
period  from  Asia  Minor,  the  dress  both  of  men  and  women 
differs  from  that  to  which  we  are  accustomed  in  later  art,  being 
more  elaborate,  and  of  an  oriental  type.  Such  works  as  the 
beautiful  Harpy  Tomb  of  the  British  Museum  or  the  Treasury 
of  the  people  of  Cnidus  at  Delphi  show  this.  On  the  Harpy 
Tomb,  not  only  do  the  women  wear  the  Ionian  dress,  but  the 
men  are  clad  in  very  similar  fashion,  in  long  chitons  reaching 
to  the  ground. 

In  days  before  the  Persian  wars  more  luxurious  fashions  of 
dress  spread  from  Ionia  to  Athens;  and  many  figures  of  early 
Attic  art  are  clad  in  Ionian  fashion,  not  women  only,  but  men. 
Thucydides,  in  a well-known  passage,  refers  to  this  influence 
of  Ionian  manners:  “It  is  not  long,”  he  says,  “since  the  older 
and  more  luxurious  of  the  Athenian  men  left  off  wearing  the 
linen  (Ionian)  chiton.”  We  know  that  in  the  time  of  Peisistra- 
tus  Ionian  artists  were  working  at  Athens,  that  the  Ionian  epics 
of  the  Homeridae  were  recited  at  festivals,  and  that  Miletus 
influenced  Athens  more  than  Athens  Miletus. 


Herodotus , V.f  87. 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


151 


As  regards  the  interpretation  of  the  Ionian  dress  as  we  find 
it  in  art,  opinions  differ  widely.  The  discussion  has  mainly 
turned  on  the  dedicated  female  figures  from  Athens,1  many  of 
which  are  clad  in  the  Ionian  fashion  (Fig. 

35) ; but  to  make  out  exactly  how  many 
garments  they  usually  wear,  and  how 
they  are  arranged,  folded,  and  put  on,  is 
a matter  of  extreme  difficulty.  There 
can  be  little  doubt  that  the  purpose  of 
the  artist  to  produce  a charming  general 
effect,  a purpose  in  which  he  is  entirely 
successful,  has  made  him  take  great 
liberties  with  the  anatomy  of  the  dress. 

The  present  not  being  a treatise  on 
Greek  dress,  but  merely  an  attempt  to 
make  it  more  intelligible  to  the  student, 

I will  confine  myself  to  a very  brief 
account  of  the  Ionic  dress. 

It  consisted  of  two  parts.  First  there 

was  the  chiton  or  undergarment,  which 

was  of  linen.  Its  softness  of  texture 

is  indicated  on  the  figures  by  wavy 

parallel  lines ; though  sometimes,  where 

it  is  subject  to  any  strain,  straight  lines 

are  substituted.  It  has  sleeves  down  to 

the  elbow,  and  encases  the  body  from 

neck  to  feet.  But  whether  it  was  sewn  fig.  35.  — Female  figure 

into  shape,  Or  held  in  shape  by  small  byAntenor.  Restored 
, t i • t-i  by  Studniczka. 

fibulae,  is  a complicated  question.  Pro- 
fessor Baldwin  Brown  accepts  the  second  alternative.2  He 
thinks  that  the  Ionian  chiton  was  a mere  oblong  piece  of  linen, 

1 These  are  described  in  great  detail  by  Lechat,  Au  Musee  de  V Acropole ; 
and  by  Dickins,  Catalogue  of  the  Acropolis  Museum.  See  also  Abrahams,  Greek 
Dress , p.  73  ; Perrot  et  Chipiez,  Histoire  de  V Art,  vol.  VIII. 

2 See  his  papers  in  the  Burlington  Magazine , December,  1905  : “ How  Greek 


152 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


the  sleeves  produced  by  fastening  with  fibulae,  and  thus  it 
closely  resembled  the  Dorian  chiton,  of  which  I shall  presently 
treat.  But  most  authorities  think  that  in  many  cases  the  gar- 
ment was  sewn  at  the  sides.  In  the  second  place  there  was 
one,  in  some  cases  there  seems  to  be  more  than  one,  overgar- 
ment or  iiri^Xrjfxa.  In  the  putting  on  of  this  there  is  great 
variety.  In  any  case  it  was  not  sewn,  but  was  merely  an  ob- 
long piece  of  cloth  draped  about  the  body.  Sometimes  it  was 
worn  over  both  shoulders  in  the  manner  of  a shawl.  Sometimes 
it  was  fastened  with  a fibula  on  one  shoulder  and  passed  under 
the  opposite  shoulder  and  arm.  Usually  it  was  doubled  over; 
sometimes  the  upper  line  was  held  in  position  by  a band  passed 
over  the  shoulder.  Sometimes  it  was  worn  just  like  the  Dorian 
himation  or  cloak,  to  which  we  shall  presently  turn.  Whether 
besides  this  overgarment  a separate  veil  or  fcprjSefivov  was 
worn,  is  again  a difficult  question. 

The  male  figures,  and  at  least  some  of  the  female  figures,  on 
the  Harpy  Tomb  are  clad  in  the  sleeved  Ionic  chiton,  over 
which  they  wear  an  overdress,  which  seems  to  be  draped  by  its 
own  weight  only,  and  to  require  no  fibulae. 

The  Ionic  was  not,  however,  the  primitive  Hellenic  dress. 
Herodotus  (v.  88)  tells  us,  no  doubt  truly,  that  the  real  national 
Greek  dress  was  the  Dorian,  whereas  the  Ionian  dress  was 
adopted  by  the  Greeks  of  Asia  from  their  neighbours,  the 
Carians.  After  the  Persian  wars  there  came  a strong  reaction 
against  all  the  effeminate  Oriental  ways  which  had  begun  to 
corrupt  the  manhood  of  Greece,  such  as  the  use  of  elaborate 
coiffures  and  of  trailing  robes.  And  henceforth  the  Ionian 
dress  gives  way  in  art,  and  the  Dorian  takes  its  place,  though 
the  change  does  not  take  place  all  at  once  — rather  by  a slow 
process  which  lasts  for  half  a century;  thus  we  often  find  a 


Women  were  dressed .”  In  any  case  the  practical  experiments  of  Professor 

Brown  are  valuable. 


X 


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153 


combination  of  the  Ionian  and  the  Dorian  dress  on  monu- 
ments. 

There  are  two  garments  which  belong  especially  to  the 
Dorian  dress,  whether  of  men  or  women : these  are,  the  sleeve- 
less chiton  and  the  cloak,  whether  the  ample  himation  or  the 
smaller  chlamys.  Dorian  girls  are  usually  represented  in  art 
as  clad  in  a single  heavy  chiton,  or  garment  without  sleeves, 
hanging  from  the  shoulders  and  fastened  upon  them  by  two 


Fig.  36.  — I.,  II.,  III. 

heavy  clasps  or  fibulae.  A closer  examination  shows  that  this 
garment  is  often  not  in  any  way  sewn  or  made  up,  but  consists 
only  of  an  oblong  piece  of  cloth  folded  in  a particular  way. 
The  above  three  diagrams  will  show  how  it  was  put  on.  An 
oblong  piece  of  material  was  taken  (Fig.  36,  I.),  Imon ,l  and 
doubled  over  at  the  line  ab , when  it  presented  the  form  abort, 
where  the  portion  am  is  doubled,  an  overfall.  This  was  again 
doubled  at  the  line  cd , and  folded  backward  so  as  to  leave  the 

1 From  Gardner  and  Jevons,  Manual  of  Greek  Antiquities,  p.  53. 


154 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


flap  line  visible  (Fig.  36,  II.).  The  person  putting  it  on  would 
now  stand  inside  it,  that  is,  between  the  two  folds,  at  efhg  (Fig. 
36,  III.)  and  fix  with  clasps  the  front  and  back  portions  together 
over  each  shoulder  at  e and  /.  She  would  then  let  the  cor- 


Fig.  37.  — Girl  from  Herculaneum. 


ners  ab  and  c fall,  and  the  whole  garment  would  be  disposed 
about  her  as  in  Fig.  37.  In  this  figure,  however,  we  notice 
beneath  the  line  of  the  overfall  Im  a second  line  which  freely 
undulates.  This  is  produced  by  fastening  a girdle  round  the 
waist,  and  by  its  help  drawing  up  the  lower  part  of  the  chiton 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


155 


and  letting  it  fall  over  the  girdle,  thus  producing  the  so-called 
kolpos.  Often  in  figures  thus  clad  there  is  a break  in  the  stuff 
down  the  whole  right  side  of  the  figure,  whence  we  can  under- 
stand that  this  garment  when  worn  alone  was  better  suited  to 
indoor  life  than  to  that  out  of  doors,  though  the  Greeks  were 
by  no  means  as  squeamish  as  we  are  in  the  matter  of  dis- 
playing the  bodily  forms. 

The  Doric  women’s  chiton  was  commonly  worn  alone,  and 
so  may  be  considered  as  either  an  under-  or  an  over-dress.  It 
would,  of  course,  be  possible  to  wear  under  it  a shift,  such  as  in 
fact  we  see  on  one  of  the  figures  on  a sculptured  drum  of  a 
column  from  Ephesus.  Or  it  would  be  possible  to  wear  over 
it  the  cloak,  or  himation,  of  which  we  shall  presently  speak. 
But  usually  when  this  cloak  is  worn  the  chiton  is  less  ample 
and  the  overfall  is  dispensed  with.  Like  everything  Greek, 
the  garment  admits  of  many  simple  varieties  without  losing 
its  essential  character.  For  example,  when  the  huntress  Arte- 
mis wears  the  Dorian  chiton,  she  sometimes  girds  it  up  so  that 
it  does  not  fall  below  the  knee.  Sometimes  the  open  side  of 
the  garment  seems  to  be  sewn  up.  Often  sleeves  are  made  by 
joining  on  the  arm  by  means  of  clasps  or  buttons  the  front  and 
back  portions  of  the  dress.  When  this  is  done,  it  is  sometimes 
not  easy  to  distinguish  between  the  sleeveless  Doric,  and  the 
sleeved  and  sewn  Ionic  chiton.  In  fact,  as  we  shall  presently 
see,  in  the  case  of  the  great  art  of  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries, 
the  underdress  is  very  often  something  between  the  Doric  and 
Ionic  type,  and  evidently  made  of  soft  materials  and  of  ample 
dimensions. 

The  Dorian  dress,  unlike  the  Ionian,  is  by  no  means  the 
same  for  men  and  women.  The  chiton,  or  shirt,  of  men  was  in 
form  not  unlike  the  Doric  women’s  chiton,  but  was  far  less 
ample,  often  coming  but  halfway  down  the  thigh.  Instances 
abound,  for  example,  in  the  Parthenon  frieze.  Like  the  women’s 
chiton,  it  was  ordinarily  fastened  on  both  shoulders;  but  the 


156 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


workmen  when  at  work,  the  smith-god  Hephaestus  for  example, 
would  usually  gird  it  under,  not  over,  the  right  arm,  so  as  to 
leave  that  perfectly  free  for  action. 

The  Doric  cloak,  or  himation,  was  worn  by  men  and  women 
alike  as  an  outer  garment.  The  women’s  cloak  would  usually 
be  of  finer  material ; the  men’s  more  adapted  to  practical  pur- 
poses. Its  form  is  as  simple  as  that  of  the  chiton,  but  it  is 
somewhat  less  oblong.  It  consisted  (Fig.  38,  I.)  of  a square 
of  cloth,  abed , doubled  over  at  the  line  Im  so  as  to  take  the  form 
lined  (Fig.  38,  II.).  This  was  then  taken  up  and  the  point  x 


Fig.  38.  — I.,  II.1 


The  part  xyzl  was  then  brought  round  the  back  of  the  body, 
the  point  y passing  under  the  right  arm,  which  was  left  quite 
free.  It  was  further  brought  round  the  chest  until  the  point 
2 reached  the  left  shoulder,  when  the  remainder,  zl , was  gathered 
together  and  thrown  over  the  arm  or  the  back.  We  thus  reach 
the  result  shown  in  Fig  39. 

It  will  be  observed  that  in  the  case  of  this  garment  there  is 
no  fastening ; it  is  held  in  place  by  its  own  weight  and  by  the 
arms. 

It  is  obvious  that  a garment  of  this  kind  is  not  adapted  to 
be  worn  when  the  wearer  is  on  any  active  employment,  nor  for 
walking  about  in  wind  and  rain.  It  was  like  the  blanket  of  the 


1 Gardner  and  Jevons,  Manual  of  Greek  Antiquities , p.  55. 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


157 


Indian  or  the  overcoat  of  the  soldier,  carried  about  to  be  used 
for  any  necessary  purpose.  It  is  also  obvious  that  it  could  be 
put  on  in  a great  variety  of  ways,  so  as  to  produce  a number 
of  artistic  effects.  Women  would  very  commonly  pass  it  not 
under  the  arm,  but  over  both  shoulders,  in  which  case 
they  would  be  warmly 
wrapped  up,  but 
scarcely  capable  of  any 
active  movement  of 
hand  or  foot.  If  we 
judged  by  statues,  we 
should  suppose  that 
while  women  always 
wore  a chiton,  or  shirt, 
under  the  cloak,  the 
men  usually  wore  no 
other  garment.  But  a 
study  of  vases  corrects 
this  impression.  Men 
are  there  very  com- 
monly represented  as 
wearing  the  chiton  as 
well ; and  one  sees 
clearly  that  the  sculp- 


tor usually  omitted  the 
chiton  in  order  to  dis- 
play the  nude  forms 
the  case  of  soldiers  he  usually  omits  the  body  armour  of 
breastplate  and  backplate,  the  stiff  lines  of  which  would  be 
in  sculpture  unpleasing.  Occasionally  in  sculpture,  as  in  the 
case  of  the  Bearded  Dionysus  and  Mausolus,  we  have  a male 
figure  wrapped  in  ample  chiton  and  himation.  This  is  doubt- 
less the  state  or  formal  dress  which  men  of  mark  wore  on  occasion. 


Fig.  39.  — From  a Greek  Amphora.1 

of  breast  and  shoulder,  just  as  in 


Ashmolean  Catalogue , Fig.  25. 


158 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


The  case  of  women  in  the  great  art  of  Greece  after  the  Per- 
sian wars  is  much  more  complicated.  Young  girls  and  the 
virgin  goddesses,  Athena  and  Artemis,  usually  wore  the  Dorian 
chiton,  sometimes  with  an  overdress.  In  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century  we  find  on  vases  the  Doric  and  Ionic  dresses 
freely  intermingled  in  the  case  of  groups  of  girls.  There  is 
something  of  the  kind  on  an  Attic  krater  from  Falerii  here 
figured  (Fig.  40). 1 But  here,  as  in  later  art  commonly,  though 


Fig.  40. 


the  dress  of  some  of  the  girls  is  in  principle  Ionic,  it  is  in  fact 
between  the  two  types,  as  the  undergarment  is  neither  sleeveless 
nor  with  sewn  sleeves,  but  has  sleeves  made  by  joining  the  edges 
of  the  garment  with  brooches.  And  the  overgarment  is  put  on 
in  the  Dorian  way ; that  is,  held  by  its  own  weight  and  not  fas- 
tened on  the  shoulder  by  a fibula.  But  in  other  cases  the  over- 
garment  is  fastened  with  the  fibula,  and  in  others  we  have  the 
simple  Doric  chiton,  with  overfall  and  kolpos.  We  may  cite  as 

1 Furtwiingler  and  Reichhold,  Griechische  V asenmalerei , PI.  17. 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


159 


examples  of  later  quasi-Ionian  dress  the  Fates  of  the  Parthenon 
Pediment  (where  Iris  wears  the  Dorian  chiton),  Artemisia  from 
the  Mausoleum,  figures  on  the  columns  of  the  Artemisium  of 
Ephesus,  and  so  forth. 

It  is  commonly  supposed  that  the  veil  of  women  is  a sepa- 
rate article  of  dress.  Sometimes  it  is  so,  as  in  the  so-called 
Giustiniani  Vesta;  but  more  commonly  the  veil  is  made  by 
bringing  the  end  of  the  garment,  whether  over-  or  under-gar- 
ment, forward  over  the  top  of  the  head. 

An  outer  garment  largely  used  by  men,  especially  young  men, 
is  the  chlamys,  properly  the  cloak  of  the  cavalry  soldier.  This 
was  an  oblong  piece  of  cloth,  fastened  by  a brooch  on  the  right 
shoulder,  so  as  to  cover  the  left  arm,  but  to  leave  the  right  arm 
free.  On  horseback  the  left  arm  would  hold  the  reins,  and 
needed  protection ; the  right  was  wanted  for  the  whip  or  lance. 
The  so-called  Phocion,  and  some  of  the  youths  of  the  Parthenon 
frieze,  wear  the  chlamys,  which  is  often  also  worn  by  the  hunt- 
ress Artemis  and  Amazons. 

I do  not  propose  to  examine  in  more  detail  the  Greek  dress 
as  worn  by  men  and  women.  My  purpose  is  not  to  write  an 
account  of  the  actual  habits  of  the  Greeks  in  their  daily  life 
in  the  matter  of  dress ; for  that  the  reader  must  consult  some 
of  the  many  works  which  deal  methodically  with  the  subject. 
I only  wish  to  explain  to  those  who  study  the  works  of  Greek 
art  what  is  the  kind  of  dress  represented  in  it.  It  will  be  seen 
that,  speaking  generally,  and  omitting  the  Ionic  chiton,  the 
garments  depicted  in  Greek  sculpture  and  painting  are  merely 
square  or  oblong  pieces  of  cloth  cunningly  folded,  and  so  ar- 
ranged, partly  by  their  own  weight  and  partly  by  the  aid  of 
fibulae,  as  to  present  a beautiful  effect.  If  a modern  costumer 
is  set  to  produce  Greek  dresses  for  a classical  drama,  he  adapts 
them  with  a multitude  of  tucks  and  strings  and  buttons.  He 
may  perhaps  be  following  a necessity  of  the  modern  stage 


160 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


with  its  violent  action,  but  he  certainly  does  not  succeed  in 
producing  anything  Hellenic  or  classical. 

It  is  more  to  the  purpose  of  a work  which  endeavours  to  trace 
the  principles  of  Greek  art  to  show  how  out  of  such  simple 
materials  as  those  which  made  up  Greek  dress  there  arose 
monuments  of  imperishable  grace  and  charm.  Nothing,  not 
even  the  demonstrations  of  Euclid,  furnished  a more  charac- 
teristic illustration  of  the  Greek  power  of  reaching,  by  the  most 
simple  and  direct  ways,  results  which  belong  to  all  peoples,  and 
set  a standard  of  taste  for  all  future  ages. 

Down  to  the  time  of  the  Persian  wars  the  Ionic  and  Doric 
fashions  of  dress  existed  side  by  side  without  much  intermin- 
gling. In  Ionic  art,  the  sculptor  reaches  ever  fresh  results  by 
contrasting  the  fine  and  delicate  folds  of  the  linen  chiton  with 
the  straighter  and  heavier  folds  of  the  overgarment.  The 
chiton,  soft  and  clinging,  only  partially  concealed  the  beauties 
of  the  form  beneath.  The  outlines  of  the  breasts  and  the 
limbs  of  women  show  clearly  in  such  early  works  as  the  Harpy 
Tomb,  but  there  the  lines  of  the  chiton  are  straight  and  parallel, 
and  are  not  much  modified  by  the  forms  of  the  body.  The 
same  is  true  of  the  Corae  from  Athens.  Charming  and  co- 
quettish as  these  statues  are,  the  pleasing  variety  with  which 
the  garments  are  draped  is  one  thing,  the  body  beneath  is  a 
separate  thing,  which  though  in  outline  visible,  has  not  much 
individuality. 

Meantime  in  Peloponnesus  the  statues  of  women  are  draped 
in  the  heavy  Doric  chiton  or  peplos,  the  lines  of  which  fall 
perpendicularly  to  the  feet,  and  reveal  little  of  the  form;  the 
neck  and  arms  are  bare,  but  the  rest  of  the  body  is  inserted,  as 
it  were,  in  a sheath,  only  sometimes  the  parting  of  the  chiton 
affords  a glimpse  of  the  side  and  thigh. 

But  the  charm  of  the  Ionian  Corae  gained  more  and  more  on 
Greece.  They  became  the  rage  at  Athens  in  the  time  of  the 
Peisistratidae.  And  the  sculptors  of  the  temple  at  Aegina, 


X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


161 


though  their  art  is  essentially  Doric,  yet  when  they  set  up  draped 
female  figures  on  the  top  of  the  pediment  as  acroteria  or  finials, 
copied  the  Ionic  model. 

During  the  first  half  of  the  fifth  century  the  two  styles  ran  side 
by  side,  each  developing  in  its  own  way.  Ionizing  artists  in- 
creased the  fineness  of  the  folds  of  the  chiton,  and  constantly 
'refined  the  details.  They  also  learned  more  and  more  to  cause 
the  chiton  to  cling  closely  to  the  body,  so  as  rather  to  reveal 
than  conceal  its  charms.  This  tendency  governed  the  Attic 
school  of  Calamis  and  Callimachus ; their  most  complete  suc- 
cess is  reached  in  such  works  as  the  Aphrodite  of  Frejus  in 
the  Louvre  (Fig.  41),  in  which  the  overgarment  is  used  as  a 
background  merely,  and  the  undergarment  only  heightens 
the  charm  of  the  form  which  it  in  no  way  hides. 

Meantime  artists  of  severer  type,  such  as  the  sculptors  of  the 
temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia,  and  the  Boeotian  Myron,  tried  to 
add  grace  to  the  severity  of  the  Dorian  chiton.  By  this  way 
they  could  not  rival  the  sensuous  triumphs  of  the  rival  school. 
Yet  nothing  could  be  more  pleasing  than  the  girl-Athena  of 
Myron,1  with  slight  form  and  undeveloped  bosom,  but  a won- 
derful mixture  of  purity  and  charm  (Fig.  42). 

But  in  the  nature  of  things  the  refinement  of  the  Dorian  dress 
could  not  go  very  far,  for  it  was  of  the  very  essence  of  that  dress 
to  fall  perpendicularly  and  to  swathe  the  body.  By  Pheidias 
it  was  adopted  for  girls,  and  for  the  austere  goddess  Athena. 
He  could  only  refine  it  by  making  the  lines  over  the  breast 
more  adapted  to  the  form  of  the  bosom ; and  by  drawing  back 
one  foot  and  showing  the  outline  of  one  leg  under  the  chiton, 
he  found  some  compensation  for  the  complete  concealment  of 
the  other  leg.  Among  the  figures  of  the  Parthenon  pediments, 
Iris,  the  girl  messenger,  shows  how  by  rapid  motion  the  Doric 
dress  can  be  made  to  lose  its  stolidity ; and  the  three  Fates  fur- 

1 This  figure  has  recently  been  identified  in  a statue  at  Frankfort,  here 
repeated. 


M 


Ml 


Fig.  41. — Aphrodite  of  Frejus. 


Fig.  42. — Athena  of  Myron. 


CHAP.  X 


DRESS  AND  DRAPERY 


163 


nish  a wonderful  instance  to  show  how  worthily  the  Ionian 
dress  may  be  used ; the  massive  beauty  of  the  forms  is  scarcely 
more  than  toned  down  by  the  extremely  beautiful  lines  and 
folds  of  the  dress : body  and  dress  are  combined  into  an  unity. 

In  the  fourth  century  variety  in  dress  is  constantly  increasing ; 
and  the  growing  mastery  of  sculptors  finds  continually  new 
adaptations.  We  see  these  in  the  sculpture  of  the  Mausoleum 
as  well  as  anywhere.  In  the  noble  figures  of  Mausolus  and  his 
wife  Artemisia  we  have  examples  of  the  Ionic  dress  used  in  a 
wonderfully  dignified  way;  no  statues  could  be  more  stately 
or  more  commemorative;  naturally  in  such  figures  the  artist 
does  not  go  out  of  his  way  in  search  of  sensuous  effects.  But 
this  can  hardly  be  said  of  the  sculptor  of  the  Amazon  frieze, 
who  tries  many  experiments  with  the  scanty  Doric  chitons  of 
the  woman  combatants,  whose  underlying  femininity  he  can- 
not forget.  (See  Fig.  28.) 

In  such  works  as  the  basis  of  Praxiteles  from  Mantinea, 
where  the  Muses  are  portrayed,  or  in  the  mourning  women  of 
the  sarcophagus  of  Constantinople,  we  perceive  to  what  a num- 
ber of  beautiful  schemes  of  dress  the  two  simple  garments  of  the 
Greek  lady  can  be  adapted.  No  two  figures  are  altogether 
alike ; and  it  would  be  hard  indeed  to  award  among  them  the 
palm  of  beauty.  Still  greater  variety  exists  among  the  delight- 
ful terra-cotta  statuettes  from  Tanagra  and  other  places ; and 
in  their  case  the  beauty  of  form  is  enhanced  by  the  bright  col- 
ouring of  the  garments. 

But  Greek  representation  of  dress,  no  less  than  Greek  archi- 
tecture, has  the  defects  of  its  qualities.  In  the  fourth  century 
we  find  the  beginnings  of  a tendency  to  dwell  upon  the  beauty 
of  the  lines  of  dress  for  their  own  sake,  and  not  merely  because 
they  enhance  the  beauty  of  the  person  to  whom  the  dress  be- 
longs as  a whole.  Even  in  the  exquisite  figure  of  Victory  fasten- 
ing her  sandal,  from  the  balustrade  of  the  temple  of  Nike  at 
Athens,  one  may  trace  something  of  this  tendency;  the  folds 


164 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  X 


of  the  garment  draw  away  one’s  attention  from  the  Victory 
herself  and  her  relation  to  the  group  of  which  she  is  a part. 
Another  tendency,  which  is  visible  even  on  the  frieze  from 
Phigaleia  in  the  British  Museum,  but  is  more  notable  in  later 
works  like  the  frieze  of  the  monument  of  Lysicrates  at  Athens, 
is  to  use  garments  or  parts  of  garments  to  fill  vacant  spaces  in  a 
relief,  using  them  as  a decorative  background,  rather  than  in 
accordance  with  their  true  nature.  This  is,  in  fact,  turning 
garments  into  drapery.  It  may  perhaps  be  regarded  rather  as 
a continuation  of  the  old  horror  vacui  of  archaic  art  than  as  a 
new  departure.  But  whatever  its  historic  origin,  it  represents 
that  tendency  of  the  Greek  mind  to  mere  show,  to  visible  effect, 
which  is  embodied  in  the  case  of  literature  in  the  rhetorical 
impulse. 

P.S.  The  reader  may  with  advantage  consult  the  useful  plates  of 
Greek  costume  arranged  by  Dr.  Amelung  and  published  by  Koehler, 
of  Leipzig.  These  are  very  satisfactory,  and  if  studied  will  save  the 
student  from  many  mistakes.  Dr.  Amelung’s  nomenclature  differs 
somewhat  from  that  which  I have  used.  The  Dorian,  chiton  he  pre- 
fers to  call  the  peplos,  a name  for  which  there  is  some  authority. 


CHAPTER  XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 

The  notions  as  to  ancient  portraiture  ordinarily  current 
among  scholars  are  quite  erroneous.  It  is  commonly  supposed 
that  the  Greeks  neglected  this  branch  of  art,  that  their  talent 
did  not  lie  in  the  direction  of  portraying  individuals,  and  that 
it  was  reserved  for  the  Romans  to  produce  portraits  which  we 
can  admire.  This  notion  is  exaggerated,  and  indeed  false. 
It  is  true  that  in  the  great  time  of  Greek  art  between  the  time 
of  Pericles  and  that  of  Alexander,  the  sculpture  of  the  Greeks 
was  so  strongly  directed  to  the  ideal  that  even  their  portraits 
seem  to  us  somewhat  impersonal  and  unreal.  But  the  Greek 
artists  of  the  third  and  second  centuries  have  bequeathed  to  us 
a magnificent  series  of  portraits,  some  of  the  very  highest  class. 
It  is  also  certain  that  the  finest  of  the  portraits  of  Romans,  those 
of  the  time  before  Augustus,  are  of  Greek  workmanship.  As 
to  the  portraits  made  under  the  Roman  Empire,  we  cannot  be 
sure  whether  they  were  made  by  Greeks  or  Romans : but  it  is 
almost  certain  that  the  best  of  them  are  by  Greeks ; and  even 
the  Romans  who  made  portraits  had  all  studied  in  Greek  schools, 
and  all  of  them  who  are  of  any  account  carry  on  the  line  of 
Hellenistic  portraiture. 

Few  people  have  any  notion  of  the  number  of  Greek  portraits 
which  have  come  down  to  us.  They  abound  in  all  great  mu- 
seums, and  are  to  be  counted,  not  by  the  hundred,  but  by  the 
thousand.  In  the  museums  of  Rome  especially  they  abound. 
Of  the  portraits  of  Euripides,  Bernoulli  catalogues  twenty-six 
examples ; of  those  of  Demosthenes,  thirty-two.  Of  Greek  and 

165 


166 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Roman  portraits,  there  are  already  published  in  Bruckmann’s 
series  eight  hundred  and  seventy  plates ; and  these  figure  only 
carefully  selected  specimens.  The  field  is  almost  inexhaustible. 

Until  lately  any  satisfactory  study  of  ancient  portraits  was 
impossible.  The  Iconographie  of  Visconti  was  completely 
out  of  date,  and  there  was  no  work  to  supersede  it.  But  of 
late  years  a magnificent  series  of  photographs  of  portraits  has 
been  published  by  Bruckmann  of  Munich.  A large  series  may 
also  be  found  in  the  recent  book  of  Dr.  Hekler.1  Bernoulli’s 
great  works  on  Greek  and  Roman  iconography  are  most  valuable, 
although,  as  he  arranges  the  portraits  under  the  persons  por- 
trayed, and  not  by  period  and  school,  he  is  not  satisfying  from 
the  artistic  point  of  view.  Writers  such  as  Michaelis,  J.  Six, 
Winter,  and  Studniczka  have  published  valuable  papers  on 
detached  portraits.  It  has  become  possible,  at  all  events,  to 
survey  the  field,  although  it  will  be  a long  time  before  its  sur- 
face becomes  hard  enough  to  bear  the  tread  of  the  archaeologist 
who  is  not  specially  trained. 

As  a set-off  to  its  undeniable  attractiveness,  the  study  of 
iconography  offers  great  difficulties.  In  the  first  place,  though 
we  possess  a great  abundance  of  portraits,  it  is  only  to  a mi- 
nority of  them  that  we  are  able  with  any  certainty  to  assign 
names.  Ancient  busts  are  seldom  inscribed  with  the  name  of 
the  person  they  represent,  and  where  such  inscription  exists, 
it  is  often  not  to  be  trusted,  being  a later  addition.  When  a 
personage  is  represented  on  coins , we  are  able  with  certainty 
to  determine  his  features : coins  help  us  greatly  in  the  case  of 
kings  and  emperors ; but  philosophers,  poets  and  even  great 
statesmen  very  seldom  appear  on  coins,  and  for  their  identi- 
fication we  have  usually  to  resort  to  less  satisfactory  evidence. 

And  there  is  a second  difficulty,  which  in  many  cases  is  quite 
insurmountable.  Unless  we  have  several  portraits  of  a man, 

1 Greek  and  Roman  Portraits , 1912. 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


167 


by  different  artists  and  in  different  styles,  it  is  impossible  that 
we  can  say  with  certainty  how  much  in  a given  bust  is  due  to 
the  subject  portrayed,  and  how  much  to  the  style  of  the  artist. 
Each  great  sculptor  of  Greece  had  a way  of  his  own  for  the 
rendering  of  such  features  as  eyes  and  mouth  and  hair,  and 
between  all  the  works  of  each  artist  there  is  a certain  cousin- 
hood.  Every  one  knows  that  this  holds  also  of  modern  artists ; 
the  portraits  of  Holbein  and  Vandyke  and  Lely  fall  into  separate 
classes.  There  is  a general  likeness  between  all  the  ladies  of 
the  court  of  Charles  II,  and  between  all  the  men  of  the  age  of 
George  III,  and  so  on ; and  it  is  not  possible  to  say  how  much  of 
this  general  similarity  is  due  to  the  kind  of  human  being,  and 
how  much  to  the  school  of  artists.  If  we  want  to  know  what  a 
man  represented  in  a picture  in  our  galleries  was  really  like, 
we  try  to  subtract  the  peculiarities,  what  is  called  the  personal 
equation,  of  the  painter.  But  in  the  case  of  ancient  portraits 
we  seldom  know  who  was  the  sculptor,  or  even  what  was  the 
school.  Thus  we  are  likely,  in  most  cases,  to  regard  as  a quality 
of  an  individual  what  is  really  an  indication  of  artistic  style. 

Another  great  drawback  in  the  study  of  ancient  portraits  is 
that  very  few  of  them  are  of  contemporary  work,  not  many 
even  are  Greek  originals.  The  great  mass  of  them  are  found  in 
Italy,  and  served  for  the  decoration  of  Roman  villas.1  A 
wealthy  Roman  who  affected  Greek  letters  would  set  up  in  his 
house  a series  of  portraits  of  Greek  poets  and  dramatists,  one 
who  affected  philosophy  would  erect  busts  of  the  Greek  phi- 
losophers or  the  seven  sages.  Thus  the  surviving  portraits  were 
mostly  produced  at  well-known  workshops  in  response  to  a 
half-educated  demand ; and  we  cannot  expect  them  to  do  more 
than  repeat  a traditional  type ; the  fine  points  of  the  originals 
which  stood  at  the  head  of  the  tradition  would  be  lost.  An 
exception  to  this  rule  is  to  be  found  in  the  great  series  of  heads 
of  generals  or  strategi  and  of  trainers  of  youths  (cosmetae) 

1 This  is  made  especially  clear  .by  the  letters  of  Cicero  to  his  friends. 


168 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


which  have  been  found  at  Athens,  and  which  are  originals, 
though  mostly  of  inferior  work,  and,  in  the  case  of  the  cosmetae, 
of  the  Roman  age,  when  the  race  at  Athens  had  become  mixed 
with  all  sorts  of  elements.  Original  portraits  were  commonly 
made  of  bronze ; the  best  notion  we  can  attain  of  them  is  gained 
from  some  of  the  bronze  heads  from  the  great  villa  at  Hercula- 
neum, now  in  the  Museum  of  Naples.  But,  in  spite  of  these 
difficulties,  we  cannot  give  up  the  study  of  ancient  portraits. 
We  are  only  warned  by  them  to  move  with  great  caution,  and 
to  beware  of  hasty  conclusions. 

As  regards  the  value  of  portraits  we  have  the  striking  testi- 
mony of  a man  who  was  far  more  literary  than  artistic.  Thomas 
Carlyle  wrote:  “ Often  I have  found  a portrait  superior  in  in- 
struction to  half-a-dozen  written  biographies,  as  biographies 
are  written ; or  rather,  let  me  say,  I have  found  that  the  por- 
trait was  a small  lighted  candle,  by  which  the  biographies  could 
for  the  first  time  be  read , and  some  human  interpretation  made 
of  them.” 

The  series  of  Greek  portraits  which  have  come  down  to  us 
stand  in  relation  to  ancient  art  in  much  the  same  position  as  do 
the  biographies  of  Plutarch  in  relation  to  ancient  history. 
Plutarch  is  not  specially  valuable  as  giving  us  an  actual  rec- 
ord of  events,  as  to  which  he  is  inaccurate ; but  he  is  splendid 
as  a delineator  of  types  of  character,  and  for  making  personalities 
stand  out  against  the  historic  background.  He  altogether  cap- 
tivated our  fathers  in  the  “ spacious  times  of  great  Elizabeth,” 
and  did  much  to  form  the  ideal  of  manliness  and  noble  ambition 
which  inspired  such  men  as  Grenville  and  Raleigh.  The  por- 
traits also  bring  before  us  a splendid  series  of  types  of  male  and 
female  beauty,  and  might  well  serve  to  counteract  the  lowering 
and  degrading  effects  of  modern  fashion,  and  to  raise  our  ideal  of 
physical  beauty.  In  judging  them  we  must  try  to  liberate  our 
eyes  from  the  yoke  imposed  on  them  by  photography,  which 
by  its  literal  superficial  accuracy  indisposes  us  to  look  beneath 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


169 


the  surface,  and  makes  conformity  to  obvious  fact  more  at- 
tractive to  us  than  conformity  to  underlying  idea  and  character. 
The  Greeks  were  free  from  such  temptations;  their  portraits 
are  largely  based  on  memory,  and  in  the  case  of  poets  certainly 
modified  by  the  character  of  their  literary  work. 

In  the  archaic  age  of  Greek  art,  and  down  to  the  middle  of 


Fig.  43.  — Head  and  hand  holding  discus  : Athens. 


the  fifth  century,  portraits  can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  existed ; 
at  least  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  them  from  the  sculptural 
types  of  which  they  were  modifications.  In  such  statues  as 
those  of  Harmodius  and  Aristogeiton,  of  which  we  have  copies 
at  Naples,  we  cannot  find  any  trait  which  is  distinctly  personal. 
The  young  head  of  Harmodius  and  the  bearded  head  of  his 
friend  would,  apart  from  the  figures  to  which  they  belong,  have 
been  set  down  as  a typical  ephebus  and  a typical  middle-aged 
citizen.  There  is,  however,  extant  at  Athens  an  archaic  head 


170 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


in  relief  from  a grave-monument  which  has  in  it  more  of  the 
portrait  (Fig.  43).  The  hair  is  treated  quite  conventionally; 
and  the  eye  is  represented  in  a very  helpless  way ; but  the  nose 
with  its  arched  bridge  is  peculiar,  and  can  scarcely  be  matched 
in  monuments  of  the  period.  It  seems  likely  that  the  young 

man  portrayed  had  a 
nose  of  noteworthy  form ; 
and  that  the  artist,  having 
noticed  this  feature  while 
his  model  was  alive,  tried 
to  reproduce  it  on  his 
grave-relief. 

One  or  two  pieces  of 
sculpture,  the  originals  of 
which  date  from  the  mid- 
dle of  the  fifth  century, 
though  our  copies  are 
much  later,  may  fairly 
be  called  portraits.  Such 
are  the  heads  of  Pericles 
and  of  Anacreon.  The 
former  is  known  in  more 
than  one  copy.  It  is 
strongly  idealized,  but  in 
the  lips  especially  we  may 
note  something  of  the  in- 
dividual. Pericles  wears 

Fig.  44.  — Head  of  Pericles  : British  Museum,  ^e  helmet  which  is  the 

distinguishing  mark  of  the 
general  or  o-Tparryyd ? ; beard  and  hair  are  simple  but  elegant ; 
and  there  is  about  the  whole  something  of  the  Olympian 
calmness  which  popular  repute  gave  to  the  great  statesman 
(Fig.  44).  We  know  who  was  the  author  of  this  portrait,  the 
sculptor  Cresilas,  of  whom  Pliny  says  that  he  gave  added 
nobility  to  noble  men;  “nobiles  viros  nobiliores  fecit/’ 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


171 


This  is  a typical  ideal  portrait.  In  calling  it  ideal  we  imply 
mainly  two  things.  First,  that  the  artist  cared  more  for  the 
essential  and  permanent  than  for  the  accidental  and  temporary. 
The  Greeks  expressed  this  by  saying  that  the  art  of  the  fifth 
century  was  ethical,  while  that  of  the  fourth  century  was 
pathetic.1  The  age  of  a man  is  accidental,  for  he  will  prob- 
ably show  the  same  character  at  all  periods  of  life ; therefore 
in  an  ethical  portrait  the  age  should  not  be  insisted  upon,  only 
he  should  be  depicted  at  his  best.  George  Eliot  has  well  said 
that  we  think  of  a lion  as  full-grown  rather  than  as  old  or  young. 
The  wrinkles  and  folds  of  the  skin  depend  mainly  upon  age, 
and  these  also  are  accidental,  as  is  the  amount  of  hair  and  the 
way  in  which  it  is  arranged.  To  such  matters  late  Greek  art 
devotes  close  attention,  but  early  Greek  art  neglects  them. 
But  the  structure  of  the  features  and  their  permanent  expression 
belong  to  the  essence  of  a man.  And  the  deeper  we  go  into  a 
man,  the  more  we  come  upon  what  does  not  belong  to  the  in- 
dividual, but  to  the  family  and  the  race.  So,  in  looking  at  an 
early  Greek  portrait,  we  discern  first  of  all  that  the  person  rep- 
resented is  a Greek,  next  that  he  is  a Dorian  or  an  Athenian, 
then  that  he  belongs  to  the  class  of  poets,  or  statesmen  or 
philosophers;  and  only  on  a closer  inspection  one  finds  what 
belongs  to  the  individual.  This  is  quite  contrary  to  the  cus- 
tom of  modern  art,  which  wants  above  all  a personal  and  in- 
dividual portrait ; and  it  is  contrary  to  the  custom  of  Hellenistic 
art,  which  delights  in  the  characteristic,  but  it  is  quite  appro- 
priate to  the  age  of  Pericles,  and  the  ideas  of  a city-state. 

But  ideal  portraiture  aims  not  only  at  the  permanent,  but 
also  at  the  pleasing.  It  does  not  rejoice  in  caricature,  nor  does 
it  think  that  ugliness  and  beauty  have  an  equal  claim  to  be 
perpetuated.  It  makes  the  best  cf  a man,  and  portrays  him 
as  he  lives  in  the  memory  of  his  friends  and  admirers.  I have 
already  mentioned  Briicke’s  view  of  the  accumulation  of 


1 See  above,  Chapter  II. 


172 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


beauty  1 in  Greek  sculpture ; and  this  accumulation  may  be 
seen  in  portraits  as  well  as  in  types.  All  the  generals  of  Alex- 
ander bear  in  their  portraits  a certain  likeness  to  Alexander 
himself : they  have  his  noble  forehead  and  eager  eyes.  Plu- 
tarch tells  us  that  his  personality  made  even  a defect,  his  wry 
neck,  popular  at  court ; so  there  is  no  unlikelihood  in  supposing 
that  it  affected  even  the  physical  type  of  his  followers ; and  it 
is  still  more  natural  that  it  should  have  affected  art.  Prob- 
ably the  personality  of  Elpinice,  the  daughter  of  Cimon,  and  of 
the  beautiful  Alcibiades  affected  the  art  of  the  fifth  century,  in 
the  way  of  making  it  more  charming.  The  beautiful  in  the 
race  underlies  the  beauty  of  form  and  feature  of  each  individual 
of  the  race. 

It  is  generally  said  that  the  art  of  the  fifth  century  was  ideal 
and  generic,  that  of  the  fourth  century  more  naturalistic  and 
individual.  There  is  some  truth  in  the  saying,  as  statues  of 
the  fourth  century  break  away  from  the  set  types,  and  show  a 
closer  study  of  nature  than  those  of  the  fifth.  But  the  real 
broad  line  of  division  lies,  not  between  the  fifth  and  fourth 
centuries,  but  between  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries  taken 
together  on  the  one  side,  and  the  art  after  Alexander  on  the 
other. 

We  have  portraits  of  other  great  men  of  the  fifth  century,  of 
Herodotus  and  Thucydides,  of  Sophocles  and  Euripides,  of 
Socrates  and  others,  but  these  are  mostly  so  much  transformed 
by  later  copyists  that  they  can  scarcely  be  regarded  as  fifth- 
century  works.  Among  the  most  authentic  portraits  of  the 
early  fourth  century  are  those  of  Euripides  and  Antisthenes, 
the  philosopher.  The  portrait  of  Euripides  is  very  character- 
istic of  the  poet,  the  expression  is  rather  cynical  and  gloomy, 
but  very  powerful  and  meditative.  Apart  from  the  inscription, 
we  might  have  taken  it  for  a philosopher.  The  head  of  Antis- 
thenes (Fig.  46),  the  disciple  of  Socrates  and  the  first  of  the 

1 See  above,  Chapter  V. 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


173 


Cynic  philosophers,  is  much  more  rugged  and  furrowed.  It 
suggests  to  us  an  interesting  problem.  About  b.c.  380-360  1 
there  flourished  at  Athens  a sculptor  named  Demetrius.  He 


Fig.  45.  — Head  of  Euripides. 


was  regarded  by  his  contemporaries  as  a great  realist,  whence 
they  called  him  a maker  of  ordinary  men  (avOpeoTroiroLos), 
whereas  Cresilas  was  called  a maker  of  statues  of  great  men 
(avhpLavTOTroLos).  Lucian 2 has  left  us  a description  of  a 
noted  work  by  Demetrius,  a statue  of  the  Corinthian  general 

1 The  date  is  fixed  by  inscriptions ; Loewy,  Inschriften  griechischer  Bild- 
hauer , nos.  62,  63. 

2 Philopseudes,  18. 


174 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Pellichus ; — “ a figure  with  a fat  paunch  and  a bald  head, 
wearing  a cloak  which  leaves  him  half-exposed,  with  some  of 
the  hairs  of  his  head  flowing  in  the  wind,  and  prominent  veins, 
like  the  very  man  himself.”  Lucian  was  a good  critic,  the  best 


Fig.  46.  — Head  of  Antisthenes  : Vatican. 


in  antiquity ; but  it  is  not  easy  to  believe,  even  on  his  testimony, 
that  a sculptor  of  b.c.  380  would  produce  so  realistic  a portrait 
as  that  here  described.  The  “few  hairs  floating  in  the  wind” 
especially  could  scarcely  be  represented  in  sculpture  of  any  age, 
still  less  in  the  sculpture  of  the  time  mentioned.  No  artist  can 
pass  beyond  the  barriers  set  by  the  notions  of  his  time.  If  we 
possessed  portraits  by  Demetrius  we  might  understand  how 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


175 


Lucian  came  to  speak  of  him  in  this  way.  Demetrius  was 
exactly  contemporary  with  Antisthenes ; and  it  has  been  sug- 
gested by  Dr.  Arndt  that  in  the  portrait  of  Antisthenes  we  may 
have  one  of  the  realistic  works  of  Demetrius.  The  head  bears 
the  name  of  Antisthenes  in  its  inscription ; it  has  the  appear- 
ance of  being  a fine  and  faithful  portrait,  and  it  possesses  the 
two  features  that  its  original  comes  from  the  age  of  Demetrius, 
and  that  it  is  notably  naturalistic  in  detail.  It  is,  however, 
reasonable  to  think  that  the  excessive  elaboration  of  the  skin 
is  due  really  to  a copyist  of  the  Hellenistic  age,  and  not  to  the 
contemporary  sculptor. 

We  may  cite  two  portraits  as  well  embodying  the  idealism 
of  the  fourth  century.  The  first  is  the  well-known  full-length 
statue  of  Sophocles  in  the  Lateran,  the  original  of  which  was 
probably  set  up  in  the  Theatre  at  Athens  in  the  time  of  Lycurgus, 
about  b.c.  325,  when  bronze  statues  of  the  great  dramatists 
were  made  to  adorn  the  auditorium.  There  could  scarcely 
be  a better  comment  on  the  plays  of  Sophocles  than  this 
statue,  which,  in  the  language  of  Carlyle,  “ gives  us  a can- 
dle to  read  them  by.”  It  portrays  not  only  the  face  of  the 
man,  but  his  elegant  dress  and  his  gentlemanly  bearing. 
But  the  representation  is  of  Sophocles  as  mirrored  in  the 
friendly  minds  of  his  admirers.  It  is  eminently  characteristic 
of  a poet  noted  rather  for  flawless  excellence  than  for  flashes  of 
inspiration. 

But  the  most  remarkable  of  the  types  of  the  fourth  century 
is  that  of  Alexander  the  Great.  Few  men  in  the  history  of  the 
world  have  made  a deeper  impression  upon  it.  Even  to  his 
contemporaries  he  seemed  a god  rather  than  a man,  and  the 
results  of  his  campaigns  in  Asia  lasted  until  Asia  was  overrun 
by  the  Mohammedans.  His  influence  on  art  was  immense. 
Every  great  artist  of  the  time  endeavoured  to  portray  his 
features,  as  Plutarch  tells  us.  There  is  at  Munich  a remarkable 
portrait  of  Alexander  (Fig.  47)  as  a youth,  which  is  conjectured 


176 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


to  be  a copy  of  a statue  of  young  Alexander  set  up  at  Olympia 
in  ivory  and  gold,  a work  of  the  Sculptor  Leochares.  He  is 

in  the  act  of  fastening 
a greave  to  his  leg 
as  a preparation  for 
battle ; the  restoration 
wrongly  makes  him 
hold  an  oil  flask. 
It  was,  however,  con- 
sidered in  antiquity 
that  Lysippus  best  suc- 
ceeded in  revealing  his 
character  (97^09)  in 
bronze,  and  embody- 
ing his  manhood  in 
visible  form.  While 
others  reproduced  the 
mere  superficial  char- 
acteristics, the  moist- 
ness of  his  eyes  and 
the  bend  of  his  neck, 
they  missed  his  manly 
and  leonine  aspect. 
What  is  certain  is  that 
the  lion-like  brow,  the 
ardent  eye,  the  bent 
neck,  all  become 
marked  features  of 
the  sculpture  of  the 
time.  Not  only  do  all 
the  generals  of  Alex- 
ander seem  to  echo  his 
physical  type,  but  even  Zeus  and  the  Sun-god  imitate  his  fore- 
head and  eyes. 


Fig.  47.  — Alexander  the  Great : Munich. 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


177 


So  completely  was  Alexander  idealized  that  we  now  find  it 
difficult  to  judge  what  he  was  really  like.  The  bust  in  the 
Louvre  bearing  his  name,  which  is  often  regarded  as  a realistic 
portrait,  is  a miserable  work  of  art,  and  the  appearance  of  natu- 
ralism in  it  mainly  results  from  its  wretched  execution.  Other 
portraits  slide  off  into  heads  of  the  Sun-god.  Two  of  the  most 
lifelike  are  those  in  relief  on  the  magnificent  sarcophagus  from 
Sidon,  on  which  a battle  and  a hunt  of  the  great  King  are 
represented.  (Fig.  107.) 

A little  earlier  than  the  time  of  Alexander  is  the  noble  por- 
trait of  Mausolus,  King  of  Caria,  brought  by  Sir  Charles  Newton 
from  the  Mausoleum  in  which  he  was  buried.  In  my  opin- 
ion this  statue  stood,  not  where  it  is  now  placed  by  the  au- 
thorities of  the  British  Museum,  in  a chariot  which  surmounted 
the  edifice,  but  rather  within  a niche  somewhere  within  the 
structure.  It  is  one  of  the  most  stately  of  ancient  works  of 
art,  and  must  have  been  made  by  one  of  the  four  great  sculp- 
tors who  worked  on  the  Mausoleum,  Scopas,  Leochares,  Bryaxis 
and  Timotheus.  The  head  of  Mausolus  shows  the  deep  set  eye 
and  vaulted  brow  which  mark  the  known  works  of  Scopas ; 
the  drapery  of  the  statue  resembles  that  of  the  beautiful  Deme- 
ter of  Cnidus  in  the  British  Museum.  The  physical  type  of  the 
king  is  not  purely  Hellenic ; the  breadth  of  the  face,  the  length 
of  the  hair,  the  close  cut  of  the  beard,  are  all  non-Greek.  The 
type  is  rather  that  of  a Phrygian  or  Persian  noble.  This  por- 
trait introduces  us  to  the  great  series  of  barbarian  types  which 
enriched  the  Greek  repertory  in  the  age  of  Hellenism. 

It  is  noteworthy  that  during  the  period  of  which  I have  spoken 
there  are  no  portraits  of  women.  The  heads  sometimes  pub- 
lished as  portraits  of  Sappho  and  of  Aspasia  are  merely  types. 
Sappho  lived  before  the  age  of  portraiture,  and  the  Athenians 
would  scarcely  have  erected  a statue  of  a concubine  like  Aspasia. 
Women  lived  a somewhat  secluded  life  at  Athens  and  other  great 
cities.  They  appeared  in  public  only  on  the  occasion  of  festivals 

N 


178 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


and  processions  in  honour  of  the  gods.  Though  we  possess  a 
number  of  representations  of  women  in  early  art,  such  as  the 
statues  of  ladies  dedicated  to  Athena  on  the  Acropolis,  and 
though  the  great  cemetery  of  the  Ceramicus  has  preserved  to 
us  many  charming  domestic  groups,  in  which  women  take  their 
full  share  of  representation,  yet  there  is  in  all  these  figures  little 
that  is  distinctive  or  noteworthy,  amid  so  much  that  is  graceful 
and  pleasing.  The  queens  of  the  age  after  Alexander  were 
often  a great  force  in  politics,  and  noted  for  wit  and  talent ; but 
the  faces  of  them,  as  they  appear  on  their  coins,  are  much  alike. 
In  all  parts  of  the  East,  to  this  day,  it  is  regarded  as  an  imper- 
tinence to  show  interest  in  the  ladies  of  a family ; and  probably 
the  kings  of  Syria  and  Egypt  would  have  been  unwilling  to  set 
up  distinctive  portraits  of  their  wives  and  daughters  in  public 
places.  The  first  really  noteworthy  female  portrait  that  we 
find  on  coins  is  that  of  the  last  and  most  noted  of  the  Cleopatras, 
whose  features  are  of  a decidedly  Semitic  cast,  and  who  rides 
roughshod  over  conventional  Greek  ideas  of  beauty,  as  she  did 
over  all  other  conventions. 

A great  change  came  over  the  art  of  portraiture,  as  over  all 
other  branches  of  art,  about  the  end  of  the  fourth  century. 
At  that  time  the  closer  study  of  the  skin  and  what  lies  beneath 
it  produced  in  portraiture  a greater  individualism,  and  a more 
precise  rendering  of  details.  Typical  is  the  noble  statue  of 
Demosthenes,  executed  by  the  sculptor  Polyeuctus  about  b.c. 
280,  copies  of  which  have  come  down  to  us  (Fig.  48).  This 
statue  is  infinitely  more  expressive  and  individual  than  that  of 
Sophocles,  which  is  half  a century  earlier.  The  pose  of  the 
man,  the  simple  carelessness  of  his  cloak,  the  long,  lean  limbs, 
the  pensive  and  dour  features,  bring  before  us  the  man  as  he 
stood  and  made  in  the  assembly  his  fruitless  protests  against  the 
blindness  of  the  Athenians  in  paying  no  heed  to  the  growing 
power  of  Philip  of  Macedon.  Beside  this  figure  we  can  range 
long  series  of  marvellously  characteristic  heads  of  philosophers, 


XI 


PORTRAIT  SCULPTURE 


179 


poets  and  generals, 
heads  both  of  Greeks 
and  of  Romans  of  the 
republican  age,  which 
put  us  on  quite  inti- 
mate terms  with  the 
men  of  the  Hellenistic 
age,  more  especially 
such  philosophers  as 
Epicurus  and  Zeno, 
to  whom,  if  we  only 
recognized  it,  we  owe 
many  of  the  most  im- 
portant modern  de- 
velopments of  civiliza- 
tion and  thought. 

But  we  observe  a 
curious  fact  which 
arouses  reflection.  The 
heads  of  Homer  and 
other  worthies  of  the 
prehistoric  age,  which 
we  owe  to  the  con- 
structive imagination 
of  Hellenistic  artists, 
are  quite  as  naturalis- 
tic and  individual  as 
are  the  portraits  of 
their  own  contempo- 
raries. We  may  there- 
fore suspect,  knowing 
what  we  do  of  the  Greek  artistic  mind,  that  the  fine  portraits  of 
later  Greece  are  not  so  much  precise  transcripts  of  individual 
models  as  due  to  a combination  of  a keen  realization  of 


180 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XI 


types,  combined  with  a love  of  rendering  realistic  detail  in 
such  matters  as  the  bones  of  the  face  and  the  folds  of  the  skin. 
The  artist  would  still  work  largely  from  memory,  but  from  a 
memory  more  richly  stored  than  of  old  with  exact  knowledge  of 
the  skin  and  of  what  lies  beneath.  He  is  still  an  idealist,  but 
an  idealist  of  wondrous  skill  in  the  rendering  of  life.  Such  is 
certainly  the  kind  of  artistic  action  by  which  such  a work  as  the 
Laocoon  was  produced.  Probably  it  was  by  the  same  kind  of 
action  that  both  actual  and  imaginary  portraits  were  made. 
When  one  sees  a portrait  full  of  character  and  life,  none  but  a 
very  skilful  judge  can  decide  whether  it  is  really  like  the  original 
or  whether  it  is  only  lifelike. 

Let  me  sum  up  in  a few  words  the  process  we  have  traced. 
In  the  archaic  age  of  Greece  it  is  not  easy  to  distinguish  between 
the  figures  of  gods  and  those  of  men  : the  imperfect  ability  of  the 
sculptor  and  his  attachment  to  set  types  prevent  him  from  giving 
much  dignity  to  the  god  or  individuality  to  the  man ; usually  it 
is  only  by  some  touch  of  naturalism  slipping  in  that  we  can 
discern  the  human  portrait.  In  the  first  great  age  of  mature 
sculpture,  the  age  of  Pheidias  and  Polycleitus,  we  no  longer  con- 
fuse gods  and  men;  but  as  the  gods  take  the  noblest  human 
forms,  so  men  are  by  the  genius  of  the  race  kept  at  an  almost 
godlike  level.  The  typical,  the  racial,  the  permanent,  is  por- 
trayed. An  undignified  subject,  and  what  is  unsatisfactory  in 
the  individual,  is  avoided,  and  we  find  the  reflex  of  a noble  race 
in  the  full  flower  of  development.  In  the  fourth  century  the 
ideal  is  lowered,  but  we  still  find  that  it  is  aimed  at,  and  with  an 
increasing  knowledge  of  natural  fact  and  appearance.  Later, 
there  is  a strong  drift  in  the  direction  of  the  individual  and  the 
actual.  Yet  the  admirable  artistic  sense  of  the  Greeks  prevents 
their  love  of  the  type  from  disappearing,  and  preserves  them 
from  a mere  slavish  external  copying  of  the  model.  Thus  they 
set  men  before  us  more  in  the  manner  of  Plutarch  than  in  that 
of  the  interviewer  for  a modern  newspaper. 


CHAPTER  XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 

We  pass  next  to  the  consideration  of  Greek  painting.  Here, 
alas  ! our  losses  are  far  greater  than  they  are  in  the  field  of 
architecture  and  sculpture.  The  sculpture  preserved  in  our 
museums,  injured  though  it  be,  is  yet  amply  sufficient  to  inform 
us  as  to  the  character  and  history  of  the  plastic  art  in  Greece, 
and  to  enable  us  to  judge  it  fairly.  But  the  extant  remains  of 
the  contemporary  painting  are  very  few  and  slight,  and  by  no 
means  adequate  to  enable  us  to  understand  the  works  of  artists 
like  Zeuxis  and  Apelles. 

We  are  obliged  to  content  ourselves  as  best  we  can  with  two 
classes  of  works,  the  Greek  vases  of  the  good  period  of  art, 
and  the  fresco  wall-paintings  of  the  Roman  age  found  at  Pom- 
peii, at  Rome  and  elsewhere.  These  are  all,  of  course,  far 
below  the  level  of  the  best  Greek  art.  Of  the  fresco-paintings 
of  the  later  age  I shall  scarcely  be  able  to  treat  in  this  work. 
We  shall  mainly  concern  ourselves  with  vases.  And  the  paint- 
ings of  vases,  however  slight  when  regarded  as  works  of  art, 
are  important,  as  bringing  us  nearer  than  do  works  of  sculp- 
ture to  the  mythology,  the  literature  and  the  daily  life  of  the 
Greeks. 

The  true  method  in  this  as  in  other  cases  is  to  put  together 
the  statements  of  ancient  writers  in  regard  to  art  and  works  of 
art,  such  writers  as  Pliny,  Pausanias  and  Lucian,  and  to  com- 
pare them  with  the  remains  of  frescoes  and  the  vase-paintings 
which  have  come  down  to  us.  Each  of  these  sources  of  in- 
formation, the  literary  and  the  archaeological,  requires  the 

181 


182 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


aid  of  the  other ; they  may  be  compared  to  longitude  and  lati- 
tude in  geography.  If  we  know  only  the  longitude  or  only  the 
latitude  of  a place,  we  may  try  in  vain  to  fix  it.  In  the  same 
way  historic  record  and  the  examination  of  monuments  apart 
lead  to  very  vague  knowledge.  Their  combination  leads  to 
exact  knowledge. 

The  only  systematic  account  of  the  early  history  of  Greek 
painting  which  we  possess  is  that  given  by  Pliny  in  the  35th 
book  of  his  Natural  History } Pliny  tells  us,  among  other 
things,  that  the  Egyptians  claimed  the  invention  of  painting ; 
but  that  according  to  the  Greeks  it  was  invented  at  Sicyon  or 
Corinth.  First  there  came  outline  drawings,  then  inner  mark- 
ings within  such  outlines,  then  washes  of  colour,  one  colour 
only  being  used  for  a while.  One  of  the  earliest  colours  used 
was  a red  made  from  pounded  potsherds.  Pliny  also  gives 
the  names  of  a few  of  the  painters  who  made  great  progress 
in  the  art,  telling  us  that  Eumares  of  Athens  first  distinguished 
male  from  female  figures,  and  Cimon  of  Cleonae  “ invented 
catagrapha,  that  is,  figures  out  of  the  straight,  and  ways  of 
representing  faces  looking  back,  up,  or  down;  he  also  made 
the  joints  of  the  body  clear,  emphasized  veins,  worked  out 
folds  and  doublings  in  garments/5  Polygnotus  of  Thasos, 
Pliny  adds,  “ first  represented  women  in  transparent  dress, 
decked  their  heads  with  many  coloured  kerchiefs,  and  made 
great  innovations  in  the  art  of  painting,  if  it  was  he  who  showed 
how  to  open  the  mouth,  to  show  the  teeth,  to  supersede  archaic 
stiffness  in  the  face. 55 

It  does  not  do  to  attach  too  much  importance  to  statements 
of  Pliny,  who  is  a most  careless  and  inexact  author.  But  he 
usually  writes  after  reading  Greek  writers  who  are  more  trust- 
worthy than  himself.  And  it  is  likely  that  a safe  basis  for  a 
history  of  early  painting  in  Greece  existed  in  the  scientific 
1 Especially  sections  15,  16,  56,  58, 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


183 


days  after  Alexander,  not  in  the  form  of  tradition,  which 
would  be  almost  worthless,  but  in  the  shape  of  actual  paintings 
preserved  in  temples  and  porticoes,  and  bearing  the  signatures 
of  early  painters,  just  as  contemporary  works  of  sculpture  bore 
the  signatures  of  their  authors.  If  this  be  the  case,  the  trav- 
ellers and  collectors  of  facts  in  later  Greece,  such  men  as 
Polemo  and  Eratosthenes,  would  be  able  to  collect  valuable 
first-hand  evidence.  Thus  it  would  seem  that  when  Pliny  says 
that  such  and  such  a painter  “ introduced  ” an  improvement,  he 
really  means  that  it  is  noteworthy  in  some  extant  works  of 
his,  and  not  to  be  found,  or  at  least  not  to  be  so  clearly  dis- 
cerned, in  more  archaic  paintings. 

If  we  compare  Pliny’s  statements  with  existing  monuments, 
especially  with  reliefs  and  vases,  we  shall  find  confirmation  of 
many  of  his  statements.  The  painting  of  the  Mycenaean  age 
seems  to  have  wholly  or  almost  wholly  disappeared  with  the 
ruin  of  that  civilization,  though  it  is  possible  that  some  of  its 
traditions  may  have  lived  on  in  Asia  Minor.  At  any  rate,  we 
find  a practically  new  departure  in  the  drawing  on  vases  of 
the  next  age,  the  geometric.  This  is  partly  in  outline,  partly 
in  silhouette ; and  Pliny’s  notion  that  outline  drawing  must 
have  been  the  earlier  is  perhaps  based  rather  on  logical  than  on 
historic  grounds.  But  when  we  come  to  Eumares  of  Athens,  we 
have  to  do  with  a historic  character.  We  have  an  inscription 
found  on  the  Athenian  Acropolis,  dating  from  about  530  b.c., 
set  up  by  the  sculptor  Antenor,  who  describes  himself  as  son 
of  Eumares.  Eumares  would  thus  belong  to  the  middle  of  the 
sixth  century.  The  odd  statement  that  he  first  distinguished 
the  sexes  may  mean  that  in  his  paintings  men  were  represented 
with  black  or  red,  and  women  with  white,  paint,  as  is  the  cus- 
tom in  black-figured  vase-painting. 

Cimon  of  Cleonae  was  a contemporary  of  the  poet  Simonides ; 
if  he  was  at  work  toward  the  end  of  the  sixth  century,  certainly 
that  was  a time  when  bold  experiments  in  attitude  and  pose 


184 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


were  being  made,  and  art  rapidly  breaking  away  from  the 
trammels  of  archaism.  The  red-figured  vase-painting  was  just 
coming  in;  and  in  the  light  of  it  what  Pliny  tells  us  about 
Cimon  seems  full  of  meaning.  In  it  we  find  fresh  poses,  more 
correct  drawing,  all  kinds  of  fresh  applications  of  skill.  What 
is  meant  by  the  word  catagrapha , which  Pliny  translates  by 
“ obliquae  imagines/’  has  been  much  discussed;  I am  dis- 


interesting  example  of  an  attempt  to  introduce  a new  atti- 
tude, and  indeed  a new  type.  That  it  was  certainly  Poly- 
gnotus  of  Thasus  who  set  painting  going  on  new  and  bolder 
lines  we  shall  see  presently.  When  Pliny  says  he  began  to 
open  the  mouth,  and  to  show  the  teeth,  we  think  of  the 
fallen  warrior  in  the  west  pediment  of  Aegina  who  is  grin- 
ning in  pain.  There  are  many  contemporary  parallels  both  in 
sculpture  and  painting. 

It  is  worth  while  to  inquire  which  among  the  monuments 
extant  in  our  museums  can  give  us  the  best  notion  of  what 

1 Ann.d.  Inst.,  1865,  PI.  P. 


Fig.  49.  — Type  of  negro. 


posed  to  think  that  it 
means  poses  other  than 
full-face  and  profile ; 
in  such  the  art  of  the 
time  would  be  making 
its  first  experiments. 
As  an  example,  I give 
(Fig.  49)  the  face  of  a 
negro  from  a vase  re- 
presenting the  adven- 
ture of  Herakles  with 
Busiris  in  the  Ashmo- 
lean  Museum.1  It  is 
later  than  the  time  of 
Cimon,  but  still  a very 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


185 


Greek  painting  was,  when  it  became  really  national  and  really 
progressive,  say  in  the  latter  part  of  the  sixth  century.  As 
regards  colouring,  we  must  fall  back  on  the  coloured  sculptures 
and  reliefs  of  the  period,  which  have  kept  some  vestiges  of 
their  colours,  whereas  the  frescoes  have  bodily  vanished.  Of 
these  I have  spoken  in  chapter  VIII.  Perhaps  such  reliefs  as 
the  grave-monument  of  Aristion  and  the  archaic  female  figures 
in  the  Acropolis  Museum  at  Athens  (as  Fig.  35)  are  our  best 
evidence.  But  as  regards  drawing,  we  are  far  better  informed : 
drawings  on  baked  terra-cotta  persist.  A good  example  from 
Athens  is  a dedicated  tablet  (Fig.  50)  published  by  Professor 
Benndorf,1  representing  a warrior  charging.  The  name  in  the 


field,  Megacles,  which  has  been  filled  in  over  the  erased  name, 
Glaucytes,  occurs  on  vases  of  about  500  b.c.  In  the  case  of 
this  tablet  four  colours  are  used.  The  terra-cotta  ground  was 

1 Ephemeris,  1887,  PL  VI.,  p.  115. 


186 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


first  covered  with  a yellow  slip  or  layer  of  fine  composition ; on 
the  slip  brown,  crimson  and  black  are  superposed,  and  in  the 
black,  inner  markings  are  indicated  by  incised  lines. 

But,  after  all,  our  best  evidence  for  the  character  of  the  paint- 
ing of  the  age  of  the  Persian  wars  is  furnished  by  the  splendid 
series  of  vases  by  Epictetus,  Euphronius,  Hieron,  and  their 
contemporaries.  Here  we  have  a school  of  vase-painting  of  the 
greatest  force  and  originality,  and  it  is  certain  that  there  must 
have  been  a contemporary  school  of  fresco-painting  which  be- 
longed to  the  same  stage  of  art  and  went  on  the  same  general 
principles  of  composition  and  drawing,  though  the  designs 
which  we  have  on  the  vases  are  clearly  composed  for  the  sur- 
face of  vases  and  not  for  mural  paintings.  It  is  probable  that 
if  we  had  as  detailed  descriptions  of  the  paintings  of  Cimon 
of  Cleonae  as  we  have  of  the  chest  of  Cypselus,  we  could  re- 
store their  designs  from  the  evidence  of  red-figured  vases  as 
successfully  as  Mr.  Stuart  Jones  has  restored  the  scenes  of  the 
chest  from  the  evidence  of  archaic  vases.1 

Soon  after  this,  about  470  b.c.,  we  come  to  the  great  Thasian 
painter,  Polygnotus,  who  made  his  home  at  Athens,  and  who 
undoubtedly  did  more  for  painting  than  any  one  else.  His  con- 
temporaries, Micon,  and  Panaenus,  the  brother  of  Pheidias, 
formed  with  him  a great  school.  And  we  come  now  into 
clearer  light,  since  Pausanias  has  left  us  careful  and  detailed 
accounts  of  some  of  the  great  paintings  of  Polygnotus  and 
Micon  in  the  Stoa  Poikile  at  Athens,  and  the  Lesche  of  the 
Cnidians  at  Delphi.  Excellent  as  are  the  descriptions,  one 
might  almost  say  the  catalogues,  of  Pausanias,  they  do  not 
enable  us  to  restore  in  imagination  the  pictures  he  treats  of 
until  we  reenforce  the  information  of  the  mind  with  appeals  to 
sense,  and  vivify  our  knowledge  by  the  comparison  of  extant 
fragments  of  painting  or  the  finest  designs  of  vases.  If  any 
reader  doubts  this  assertion,  he  has  but  to  study  the  attempts 

1 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 1894,  PI.  I. 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


187 


to  restore  the  Delphic  paintings  of  Polygnotus  made  before 
appeal  was  made  to  the  testimony  of  vases.1  We  are  now  for- 
tunately able  to  trace  with  confidence  the  influence  of  Polygno- 
tus on  some  of  the  vases  of  the  fifth  century ; and  a comparison 
of  these  with  the  descriptions  of  Pausanias  may  be  said  to  have 
given  us  a fairly  satisfactory  notion  of  the  drawing  and  group- 
ing, though  not  of  the  colouring,  of  the  great  Thasian  master. 
In  particular  we  can  trace  what  kind  of  perspective  he  intro- 
duced into  art,  and  what  ways  he  had  of  telling  a story  or 
describing  a situation.  That  is  to  say,  we  can  recover  his 
grammar,  if  not  his  poetry. 

The  Polygnotan  perspective,  simple  and  almost  childish  as 
it  seems  to  us,  really  marks  the  parting  of  the  ways  between 
painting  and  relief,  which  had  hitherto  been  frequently  com- 
bined so  as  to  be  almost  confused.  Polygnotus  attacked  the 
problem  of  representing  different  sets  of  people,  not  in  the  same 
plane,  but  some  farther  off  than  others.  He  did  not  depict  the 
farther  figures  on  a smaller  scale,  nor  did  he  (what  indeed  we 
could  scarcely  expect  of  an  early  artist  working  in  the  bright 
light  of  Greece)  allow  for  the  effect  of  atmosphere  in  making 
them  less  clearly  visible.  But  two  things  he  did  : first,  he  placed 
the  more  distant  figures  higher  up  in  the  field  of  the  painting, 
and  second,  he  represented  the  lines  of  the  irregular  hills  of 
the  background,  hills ‘almost  invariable  in  a Greek  landscape, 
as  passing  up  and  down  through  the  painting,  and  sometimes 
concealing  parts  of  the  farther  figures.  Professor  Robert  has 
skilfully  reconstructed  on  such  principles  the  Iliupersis  and  the 
Nekuia  of  Polygnotus.2  A few  vases  of  the  middle  of  the  fifth 
century  seem  arranged  on  exactly  the  same  plan.  One  of  these, 
representing  the  slaying  by  Apollo  and  Artemis  of  the  children 
of  Niobe,3  on  one  side,  and  on  the  other  the  Argonautic  heroes 

1 See  the  Vienna  Vorlegeblatter  for  1888,  Pis.  X.-XII. 

2 Published  at  Halle,  1892,  93.  The  schemes  are  repeated  in  Frazer’s  Pausa- 
nias, Vol.  V.,  pp.  360,  372. 

3 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , Vol.  X.,  p.  118. 


1 88 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


(Fig.  51),  will  showr  at  once  the  character  of  the  Polygnotan 
perspective.  On  the  left  of  the  larger  group  a figure  in  armour 
may  be  seen  half  hidden  by  the  hill.  Who  he  is  we  shall  after- 
wards consider.  At  present  I wish  to  observe  that  we  are  told 
that  in  Micon’s  painting  in  the  stoa  at  Athens,  one  of  the  com- 
batants named  Butes  vTas  hidden  behind  a hill,  all  save  his 
helmet  and  an  eye;  vdience  a proverb  arose,  “ quicker  painted 
than  Butes. ” This  shows  how  the  laws  of  composition  invented 
by  great  painters  found  their  vray  on  to  vases. 

Another  prominent  feature  of  Polygnotan  art  is  the  use  of 
the  method  of  allusion,  alike  in  indicating  personalities,  defin- 
ing situations  and  telling  stories.  It  is  quite  in  the  manner  of 
Greek  art,  and  especially  of  the  great  art  of  the  fifth  century, 
to  define  a character  or  tell  a story  not  by  direct  representation, 
but  by  a gentle  suggestion,  which  leads  the  mind  on  without 
compelling  it.  Thus  we  are  told  by  Cicero  that  when  Alca- 
menes,  the  pupil  of  Pheidias,  represented  the  artisan-god, 
Hephaestus,  he  made  his  lameness  appear  in  a slight  and  grace- 
ful way;1  and  it  is  just  in  accordance  with  this  statement  of 
Cicero  that  w^e  find  the  lameness  of  the  seated  Hephaestus  of 
the  Parthenon  frieze  represented  only  by  the  manner  in  which 
the  god  leans  on  the  handle  of  his  mighty  hammer,  and  by  the 
awkwardness  of  his  feet.  The  grave  reliefs  of  the  fifth  and 
fourth  centuries  at  Athens  are  full  of  suggestions  of  death 
given  in  this  gentle  manner;  the  head  resting  on  the  hand  im- 
plies grief  at  separation,  putting  on  the  sandals  means  prep- 
aration for  the  last  great  journey,  and  so  forth.2  It  seems, 
however,  that  the  prevalence  of  this  manner  in  Attic  sculpture 
really  comes  from  Polygnotus.  For  Pausanias,  in  his  descrip- 
tion of  the  Delphic  paintings  of  Polygnotus,  tells  us  that  in  the 
picture  of  Hades  Eriphyle  was  represented  with  her  hand  to 
her  neck,  to  signify  that  the  necklace  of  Harmonia  was  fatal 


1 “Leviter  apparet  claudicatio  non  deformis.”  Cicero,  N.  D.,  I.,  30. 

2 See.  P.  Gardner,  Sculptured  Tombs  of  Hellas , pp.  152,  170,  176,  etc. 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


189 


to  her,  since  by  it  she  had  been  bribed  to  betray  her  husband, 
and  Phaedra  was  depicted  in  a swing,  to  hint  at  the  manner  of 
her  suicide,  which  was  by  hanging.  This  gentle  and  graceful 
way  seems  to  be  of  Ionian  origin.  In  vases  of  the  fine  period 
it  is  very  prevalent.  We  need  take  but  one  or  two  examples. 
In  the  vase-painting  which  represents  the  slaying  of  Rhesus 
and  his  Thracians  by  Diomedes  and  Odysseus  (Figs.  95,  96) 
the  Thracians  are  seen  to  be  dead  only  by  their  constrained 
attitudes ; the  unpleasant  marks  of  a violent  death  are  omitted. 
In  the  Orvieto  vase  (Fig.  51  a),  representing  the  Argonauts,  it  is 
possible  to  identify  by  hints  most  of  the  heroes,  though  their 
names  are  not  inscribed.  Tiphys,  the  elderly  pilot,  rests  on  a 
spear ; Jason,  in  full  armour,  face  to  face  with  Heracles,  stands 
near  the  middle  of  the  picture ; Castor  and  Pollux  stand  on  the 
extreme  right  and  left,  one  holding  a horse,  both  distinguished 
by  the  fashion  of  their  caps.  We  may  also,  I venture  to  think, 
recognize  the  figures  of  Theseus  and  Peirithous  below,  from  the 
mere  fact  that  they  are  seated,  since  it  was  their  destiny  to  be 
fastened  to  a rock  in  Hades,  and  Polygnotus  in  his  picture  of 
Hades  (followed  in  some  of  the  vases  which  represent  the 
under-world  *)  renders  this  fastening  merely  by  making  them 
sit  on  the  rock.  Virgil  must  have  had  such  a representation 
in  his  mind  when  he  wrote  “ Sedet  aeternumque  sedebit  Infelix 
Theseus.”  So  in  the  figure  which  is  disappearing  over  the 
mountains  we  may  with  probability  recognize  Hylas,  who 
strayed  away  from  his  companions  and  was  carried  off  by  the 
Naiad  nymphs.  We  think  of  Hylas  as  an  effeminate  youth, 
in  accordance  with  the  poems  of  Ovid  and  Propertius  and 
Pompeian  paintings;  but  in  the  more  manly  art  of  the  fifth 
century  he  would  be  represented,  as  he  figured  in  early  legend, 
as  a hero,  and  one  of  the  Argonauts.  He  was  the  friend  of 
Heracles,  as  Patroclus  was  the  friend  of  Achilles,  without  any 
detraction  from  his  manliness. 

1 Baumeister,  Denkmaler,  art.  “Unterwelt,”  PI.  87. 


Fig.  51  a.  — Vase  of  Orvieto. 


CHAP.  XII 


GKEEK  PAINTING 


191 


On  the  other  side  of  the  vase,  in  the  scene  of  the  slaying  of 
the  Niobidae,  we  notice  that  a single  tree,  and  that  depicted  in 
a summary  way,  represents  the  forests  on  Mount  Sipylus.  In 
just  the  same  way,  in  Polygnotus’  representation  of  Hades,  a 
single  tree  stood  for  the  sacred  grove  of  Persephone.  Niobe 
herself  does  not  appear  on  the  vase  — only  three  of  her  sons 
and  one  of  her  daughters,  of  which  four  figures  two  lie  dead 
in  the  foreground,  two  fly  to  right  and  left. 

Can  we  venture  to  see  between  the  vase-paintings  of  this 
group  and  the  works  of  the  Polygnotan  school  a still  closer 
connection  ? Is  it  possible  to  prove  in  any  case  that  the  vase- 
painting  is  a copy,  or  at  all  events  a reminiscence,  of  the  mural 
painting  ? The  range  of  subjects  is  certainly  the  same  : Micon 
painted  the  return  of  the  Argonauts,  and  such  subjects  from 
the  exploits  of  early  heroes  were  common  to  fresco  painters  and 
vase-painters.  Many  archaeologists  have  from  time  to  time 
not  unnaturally  attempted  to  find  on  vases  scenes  and  groups 
repeated  from  some  of  the  great  fresco-paintings  of  Athens 
and  elsewhere.  Dr.  Kliigmann,  for  example,  in  his  excellent 


192 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


paper  on  the  Amazons,1  observes  that  about  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century  a new  set  of  vases  comes  in  at  Athens,  whereof 
the  subject  is  the  battles  between  Theseus  and  his  Athenians 
and  the  invading  hosts  of  Amazons;  and  that  these  vases  in 
common  present  certain  features,  such  as  that  the  Amazons  are 
on  horseback  and  the  Greeks  on  foot,  and  that  the  women 
warriors  are  usually  clad  in  the  well-known  dress  of  the  Persian 
cavalry,  familiar  to  the  Athenians  since  Marathon.  He  is 
disposed  to  attribute  the  general  character  of  the  vases  to  the 
influence  of  the  painter  Micon,  who  at  about  that  time  painted 
in  the  Stoa  Poikile  and  in  the  Theseion  at  Athens  fresco-paint- 
ings of  the  battles  of  Theseus  and  the  Amazons.  This  sugges- 
tion it  would  certainly  not  be  rash  to  accept.  But  when 
Kliigmann  goes  farther,  and  proposes  to  find  in  some  of  the 
schemes  and  fighting  groups  reminiscences  of  some  of  the 
figures  of  Micon,  we  feel  that  he  is  venturing  on  thin  ice,  be- 
cause, as  will  abundantly  appear  hereafter,  the  customs  of  vase- 
painting  were  so  definite  and  exclusive  that  it  is  far  more  likely 
that  the  artists  would  take  details  of  treatment  from  one  an- 
other and  from  tradition  than  from  the  new  and  bold  schemes 
of  a great  and  progressive  fresco-painter.  We  are  here  on  the 
borders  of  a very  considerable  question.  What  would  seem 
to  us  more  natural  than  that  an  Athenian  vase-painter  should 
copy  groups  of  horsemen  or  chariots,  or  take  poses  from  the 
sculptural  decoration  of  the  Parthenon  ? Yet  scarcely  more 
than  two  or  three  vases  can  be  pointed  out  which  appear  to  show 
traces  of  the  influence  of  the  workshop  of  Pheidias,2  and  only 
one  or  two  show  any  close  likeness  to  the  pediments  of  the 
temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia,  or  the  reliefs  of  the  temple  of  Athena 
Nike  at  Athens.  And  even  in  these  cases  the  relationship  is 
certainly  not  close,  and  may  be  disputed.  There  is  perhaps 
more  ground  for  finding  in  sculptured  relief  the  influence  of 

1 Die  Amazonen  in  der  attischen  Liter atur  und  Kunst,  1875. 

2 See  Winter,  Jixngere  attische  Vasen , p.  34, 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


193 


contemporary  paintings.  We  are  told  that  Pheidias  worked  at 
painting  when  young,  and  his  brother  Panaenus  was  a painter. 
Professor  Benndorf  has  made  out  a good  case  for  seeing  in  some 
of  the  reliefs  of  the  tomb  of  Trysa1  an  echo  of  the  paintings  of 
Polygnotus  and  other  Attic  painters;  but  we  cannot  insist 
strongly  on  this  line  of  influence,  as  its  grounds  are  largely 
mixed  with  hypothesis  and  conjecture,  in  the  absence  of  the 
paintings  supposed  to  be  copied. 

Let  us  however  return  to  the  question  of  the  relations 
of  vase-paintings  to  great  works  in  fresco.  We  may  best 
bring  this  question  to  a definite  issue  by  discussing  a vase- 
painting  which  has  by  good  authorities  been  thus  con- 
nected. 

Pausanias  thus  describes  a painting  by  Micon  in  the  Ana- 
keion  at  Athens  : 2 “The  painting  on  the  third  wall  is  not  intel- 
ligible without  interpretation,  partly  because  it  has  suffered 
from  time,  partly  because  Micon  did  not  put  in  the  whole 
story.  When  Minos  was  bringing  to  Crete  Theseus  and  the 
rest  of  the  tribute  of  boys  and  girls,  he  fell  in  love  with  Peri- 
boea.  And  when  Theseus  was  his  chief  hindrance,  Minos  cast 
against  him  angry  reproaches,  saying,  among  other  things,  that 
he  was  not  the  son  of  Poseidon,  for  he  could  not  fetch  back  the 
ring  which  he  himself  was  wearing,  if  he  threw  it  into  the 
sea.  With  these  words  Minos  is  said  to  have  thrown  down 
the  ring,  and  Theseus  [plunging  after  it]  came  back  from 
the  sea,  bringing  it  and  also  a wreath  of  gold,  the  gift  of 
Amphitrite.” 

The  visit  of  Theseus  to  the  court  of  Poseidon  and  Amphitrite 
beneath  the  waters  of  the  Aegean  Sea  is  spoken  of  in  the  re- 
cently discovered  poem  of  Bacchylides,  and  it  is  the  subject 
of  some  very  beautiful  vase-paintings.  One  of  these  is  the 

1 Benndorf,  Das  Heroon  von  Giolbaschi  Trysa,  passim.  It  is  especially 
the  introduction  of  perspective  of  a simple  kind  at  Trysa  (as  on  Pis.  12,  13) 
which  appears  to  point  to  the  influence  of  painting. 

2 Pausanias,  I.,  17,  2. 


194 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XII 


well-known  kylix  of  Euphronius,1  on  which  Theseus  as  a boy 
is  represented  as  being  presented  to  Amphitrite  by  Athena. 
A vase-painting  more  important  for  our  present  purpose,  and 
here  repeated  (Fig.  52) ,2  is  of  a somewhat  later  date  and  of  less 
simple  grouping.  On  the  left  we  see  the  stern  of  the  ship, 
whence  the  fish-tailed  monster  Triton  is  bearing  the  young 
Theseus  to  the  abode  of  Poseidon  and  Amphitrite.  This  abode 
is  clearly  constructed  after  the  fashion  of  a Greek  shrine. 
Poseidon  reclines,  like  the  father  of  a family,  on  a couch.  Am- 
phitrite, seated  near  him,  holds  her  golden  wreath.  Eros 
pours  wine  from  an  amphora  into  a crater  or  mixing  vessel; 
an  oenochoe  close  by  is  ready  to  be  dipped  into  the  crater. 
Dedicated  tripods  stand  near;  a few  trees  and  plants  show 
that  Poseidon  has  his  groves  as  well  as  Persephone.  Above, 
on  the  left,  is  the  Sun-god  rising  from  behind  the  hills  in  his 
chariot;  above  on  the  right  are  four  female  figures,  one  of 
whom  holds  a shield. 

Whether  these  pictures  are  related  to  the  literary  versions 
of  this  early  exploit  of  Theseus  I shall  consider  in  a later  chapter 
(XVII).  At  present  I propose  briefly  to  consider  whether 
they  are  related  to  the  picture  of  Micon.  In  the  first  place 
we  may  observe  that  the  cup  of  Euphronius,  and  some  other 
vases  which  bear  representations  of  this  tale,3  are  too  early  to 
be  influenced  by  the  picture  in  question ; besides  which  their 
composition  is  altogether  after  the  manner  of  vase-paintings. 
The  supposition  that  Euphronius  would  be  influenced  by 
Micon  belongs  to  a stage  of  knowledge  which  is  now  passed. 
But  in  the  picture  of  the  Bologna  vase  we  may  unhesitatingly 

1 Repeatedly  figured ; see  especially  Monuments  grecs,  1872,  Pl.  I. ; Klein, 
Euphronios , p.  182  ; Harrison  and  Maccoll,  Greek  Vase-paintings , PI.  XIV. ; 
Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , Vol.  XVIII.,  Pl.  14;  Furtwangler  and  Reichhold, 

Griechische  Vasenmalerei,  PL  5. 

2 Mon.  dell  Inst.,  Suppl.,  PL  XXI.  Repeated  in  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 
Vol.  XVIII.,  p.  277,  whence  our  cut. 

3 They  are  figured  by  Mr.  Arthur  Smith  in  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 
Vol.  XVIII.,  pp.  276  and  foil. 


196 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


trace  the  stylistic  influence  of  the  school  of  Polygnotus  and 
Micon.  It  is  apparent  in  the  perspective  of  the  picture;  in- 
deed, it  is  so  faithfully  followed,  that  the  place  of  meeting  of 
Theseus  and  Amphitrite,  which  is  on  the  vase  of  Euphronius 
identified  by  the  introduction  of  swimming  fishes  as  the  bottom 
of  the  sea,  here  becomes  a country  of  hills  and  of  groves.  The 
introduction  of  the  Sun-god  into  scenes,  an  introduction  which 
was  a noted  feature  of  the  art  of  Pheidias,  was  probably  a 
Polygnotan  innovation.  And  in  the  female  figure  most  to  the 
right,  we  seem  to  have  an  example  of  Polygnotan  allusion. 
The  woman  holds  a shield ; and  this  suggests  that  she,  as  well 
as  her  companions,  is  a Nereid ; Nereids  on  vases  being  com- 
monly occupied  in  carrying  the  arms  made  by  Hephaestus  for 
their  sister  Thetis,  and  by  them  borne  to  the  tent  of  Achilles. 

Again,  in  the  somewhat  elaborate  and  variegated  dress  of  the 
figures  on  the  vase,  we  may  trace  a likeness  to  the  style  of  the 
great  Ionian  painter,  who  adorned  his  women’s  hair  with 
bright  kerchiefs  and  gave  them  transparent  robes.  That  even 
Triton  should  wear  a chiton  must  almost  certainly  be  a touch 
of  Ionic  art. 

But  though  the  vase-painting  thus  belongs  to  the  cycle  of 
the  works  of  Polygnotus  and  Micon,  yet  it  is  anything  but  cer- 
tain that  it  is  an  actual  copy  of  the  mural  painting  of  Micon. 
In  the  first  place,  we  do  not  know  exactly  how  Micon  treated 
this  subject.  Pausanias  says  that  he  told  the  story  imperfectly, 
and  this  reproach  could  scarcely  be  brought  against  our  vase- 
painting.  And  further,  some  of  the  details  of  the  picture 
seem  much  more  suitable  to  a vase  design  than  to  a mural 
painting.  The  treatment  of  Poseidon  as  a feaster,  by  no 
means  unnatural  to  a vase-painter  among  whose  commonest 
subjects  were  scenes  of  feasting,  is  scarcely  worthy  of  a great 
painter  like  Micon,  and  the  grouping  of  the  upper  line  of  human 
figures  is  so  completely  such  as  we  are  accustomed  to  in  late 
Attic  vases,  that  it  is  not  easy  to  suppose  for  it  in  this  case  a 


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dissimilar  origin.  If  there  be  one  feature  which  is  likely  to 
emanate  from  Micon,  it  is  the  group  of  Triton  and  young  Theseus. 
On  the  vase  of  Euphronius  Triton  is  minute,  and  is  supporting 
the  feet  of  Theseus ; here  he  bears  the  youth  in  his  arms,  as  in 
the  sculpture  of  the  fourth  century  Hermes  carries  the  young 
Dionysus.  But  even  on  this  point  we  cannot  insist. 

A definite  proof  of  Polygnotan  influence  on  vase-paintings  is 
to  be  found  in  the  use  on  some  of  them  of  Thasian  dialectic 
forms.  In  the  inscriptions  such  forms  would  scarcely  be  used 
save  by  artists  belonging  to  the  school  of  Polygnotus  and 


Fig.  53.  — Odysseus  and  the  Suitors. 


198 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


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brought  by  him  to  Athens.  For  example,  on  a beautiful  cup 
from  Corneto,  of  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century,  on  which  is 
represented  the  shooting  down  of  the  suitors  of  Penelope  by 
Odysseus,  we  have  a composition  quite  of  Polygnotan  character. 
Polygnotus  is  known  to  have  painted  for  the  pronaos  of  the  tem- 
ple of  Athena  Areia  in  Plataeae  the  subject  of  the  shooting 
of  the  suitors.1  And  the  relation  of  the  vase  to  the  great 
painter  is  further  assured  by  the  form  inscribed  on 

the  vase  in  place  of  the  Homeric,  O Svcraevs  or  the  Attic 
'OXvrrevs,  fl  for  O being  a peculiarity  of  the  Parian  and 
Thasian  alphabet.  (Fig.  53.)  With  this  vase  goes  another 
cup  from  Chiusi 2 on  one  side  of  which  is  represented  the  wash- 
ing of  the  feet  of  Odysseus,  by  Eurycleia,  and  on  the  other 
Penelope  at  her  loom.  Here  it  is  uncertain  whether  the  first 
letter  of  the  inscribed  name  of  the  hero  is  O or  H.  On  another 
Attic  vase  of  the  same  period  on  which  the  sacrifice  of  an  ox  is 
represented  in  a very  stately  and  dignified  style,3  we  actually 
find  the  signature  of  a Polygnotus,  who  can  scarcely  be  the 
great  painter  himself,  but  may  well  be  a relative  or  dependant 
whom  he  brought  with  him  to  Athens. 

In  publishing  the  reliefs  which  adorned  the  Lycian  tomb 
at  Trysa,  now  in  the  Museum  of  Vienna,  Benndorf  cited  the 
vase  of  Corneto  just  mentioned,  and  found  a close  likeness 
between  its  paintings  and  the  Trysa  relief  which  represents  in  a 
more  complete  way  the  slaying  of  the  suitors.4  The  likeness  is 
indeed  beyond  denial,  and  furnishes  support  for  Benndorf’s 
view  that  in  the  reliefs  from  Trysa  we  may  find  considerable 
traces  of  the  influence  of  the  great  group  of  painters  at  Athens. 

In  another  example  recently  worked  out  by  Professor  Loewy 
we  may  discover  with  still  higher  probability  the  influence  on 
sculpture  of  Polygnotan  painting.  Most  classical  scholars  are 

1 Pausan.,  IX.,  1.  The  vase  is  published  in  Mon.  d.  Inst.,  IX.,  53. 

2 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  IX.,  42.  3 Klein,  Vasen  mit  Meistersig.,  p.  199. 

4 Das  H croon  von  Giolbaschi-Trysa,  pp.  102,  105. 


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familiar  with  the  story,  perhaps  originally  told  by  Ibycus, 
how  Menelaus  at  the  taking  of  Troy  recovered  Helen,  and 
would  have  slain  her,  had  he  not  been  overpowered  by  love  for 
her  beauty.  As  told  by  Peleus  in  the  Andromache  of  Euripides, 
when  he  is  quarrelling  with  Menelaus,  the  tale  runs : “ When 
you  took  Troy,  you  did  not  slay  the  woman  though  she  w as  your 
captive;  but  when  you  saw  her  breast,  you  cast  aside  the 
sword,  and  chose  a kiss.”  Of  this  incident  there  are  two 
notable  representations  on  our  monuments.1  Earliest  of  the 
two  is  a vase  of  the  Museo  Gregoriano  (Fig.  54  a),  on  which  we 
see,  on  the  right,  Helen  with  disordered  hair  and  dress  running 


Fig.  54  a.  — Menelaus  and  Helen  : Attic  Vase. 


towards  a statue  of  Athena  for  sanctuary.  As  she  flies,  she 
looks  back  at  Menelaus,  who  pursues  her  in  warlike  guise, 
evidently  meaning  to  slay  her.  But  the  sword  drops  from  his 
hand ; between  him  and  Helen  stands  the  stately  figure  of 
Aphrodite,  from  whom  a little  Eros  flies  towards  the  injured 
husband  bearing  a wreath.  The  four  figures  form  a beautiful 
and  balanced  composition ; the  companion  of  Aphrodite,  Peitho, 
on  the  extreme  left,  might  have  been  spared.  It  is  an  acute 
suggestion  of  Loewy  that,  taking  the  vase  as  it  stands,  the  cause 
of  the  casting  away  of  the  sword  by  Menelaus  is  to  be  found 
rather  in  the  interference  of  Aphrodite,  the  embodied  love,  than 
in  any  display  of  beauty  by  Helen,  who  is  clad,  as  becomes  her 

1 Wiener  Studien,  1912,  p.  282.  Loewy  was  not  the  first,  however,  to  bring 
vase  and  reliefs  together. 


200 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Spartan  home,  in  the  simple  Doric  chiton  open  at  the  side : 
the  visibility  of  the  breasts  is  only  according  to  the  custom  of 
painting  at  the  time.  The  unpleasant  suggestion  of  Euripides, 
which  is  repeated  in  the  Lysistrata  of  Aristophanes,  is  probably 
only  a sensual  misreading  of  a painted  scene  such  as  that  on  the 
vase  by  the  Athenian  “man  of  the  street.”  But  if  so,  the  source 
of  the  mistake  could  not  be  a mere  vase-painting ; there  must 
have  been  at  Athens  a noted  painting  of  which  the  vase-painting 
is  only  a reflection : such  a painting  must  surely  have  been  one 
of  the  great  mural  pictures  of  Polygnotus  or  one  of  his  contem- 
poraries, which  thus  represented  the  interposing  of  Aphrodite 
between  injured  husband  and  recovered  wife.  It  is  to  be  ob- 
served that  according  to  another  version  of  the  myth,  it  was  in 
the  temple  of  Aphrodite  that  the  pair  came  to  terms. 

The  conjecture  just  set  forth  may  be  regarded  as  definitely 
justified  by  the  fact  that  a closely  similar  group  of  four  fig- 
ures, Helen,  Aphrodite,  Eros,  and  Menelaus,  with  a statue  of 
Athena,  is  repeated  on  a pair  of  metopes  of  the  Parthenon,  un- 
fortunately very  much  defaced  (Fig.  54  b ).  As  the  group  is 
not  confined  to  one  metope,  but  runs  over  into  two,  it  cannot 


have  been  originally  designed  for  the  place  it  occupies  : it  must 
be  almost  certainly  taken  over  from  some  well-known  work  of 
Athenian  art ; and  the  close  relation  which  held  between  Phei- 
dias  and  Polygnotus  would  make  us  look  for  the  original  of  a 


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Pheidian  group,  if  anywhere  outside  the  workshop  of  the  master, 
in  a well-known  work  of  the  great  painter  from  Thasos. 

As  the  sculpture  of  the  school  of  Pheidias  shows  clear  traces 
of  the  influence  of  Polygnotus,  so  we  may  trace  upon  some  of 
the  finest  vases  of  b.c.  430  or  thereabouts  so  close  a likeness  to 
the  Pheidian  style  that  we  can  scarcely  doubt  that  sculpture 
at  the  time  in  turn  influenced  painting.  In  these  vases  we  find 


Fig.  55. — Attic  worthies : Vase  from  Corneto*. 


202  ' 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


in  a high  degree  the  Pheidian  qualities  of  self-control  and  dignity 
and  charm.  According  to  a striking  elucidation  by  Furtwangler 
the  groups  depicted  at  the  sides  of  the  west  pediment  of  the 
Parthenon  represent  the  families  of  the  early  heroes  of  Attica, 
Erechtheus  and  Cecrops.  A group  of  Attic  heroes  also  appears 
on  a very  fine  vase  from  Corneto.1  In  the  midst  is  a group  of 
Eos  and  Cephalus.  On  the  obverse  side  Ge  or  Earth  holds  up 
the  child  Erichthonius  to  Athena,  who,  in  order  not  to  alarm  the 
child,  throws  her  aegis  over  her  back.  Hephaestus,  the  real 
father  of  the  child,  and  the  serpent-footed  Cecrops  stand  by. 
The  composition  of  the  reverse  is  paratactic ; Aglauros,  Erech- 
theus, Pandrosos  Aegeus  and  the  hero  Pallas  stand  side  by  side 
without  close  connection  one  with  another  (Fig.  55).  The 
groups  of  statues  in  the  round  of  the  fifth  century  were  almost 
always  of  this  kind  ; the  combination  of  figures  into  closely  knit 
groups  comes  later.  The  statuesque  character  of  the  persons 
portrayed  is  very  manifest ; most  of  them  could  be  directly 
copied  in  statues  in  the  round,  and  such  statues  would  have 
Pheidian  poses.  Only  Athena,  who  is  leading  on  her  favourite 
Menestheus,  shows  more  animation. 

Painting  is  a more  complicated  and  expressive  art  than  sculp- 
ture ; we  cannot,  therefore,  be  surprised  that  its  period  of  high- 
est bloom  is  later.  It  does  not  appear  that  Greek  painting  ever 
reached  a higher  ethical  level  than  it  reached  in  the  fifth  cen- 
tury. But  unquestionably  the  great  painters  of  the  next  age  — 
Zeuxis,  Parrhasius,  Timanthes,  Apelles  and  the  rest  — improved 
the  technique  of  painting  enormously,  brought  in  a greater 
variety  of  colouring,  developed  perspective  and  immensely 
increased  the  range  of  the  art.  Unfortunately,  at  this  point 
we  lose  the  evidence  of  vase-painting,  which  not  only  begins  to 
decay,  but  is  driven,  so  to  speak,  to  despair  by  the  increasing 
complexity  of  the  great  art  of  painting,  of  which  it  can  give  but 
the  feeblest  echo. 


1 Mon.  dell.  Inst.,  X.,  PI.  39. 


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We  are  told  that  Polygnotus  used  but  four  colours  — white, 
yellow,  red,  and  black.  But  if  this  were  the  case,  how  could 
he  be  praised  for  the  mitrae  versicolores  which  adorned  his 
women’s  heads  ? J.  Lange  1 is  almost  certainly  right  in  his 
view  that  it  was  in  representing  the  nude  human  body  that  he 
confined  himself  to  these  colours.  For  alike  in  architecture, 
sculpture  and  painting,  green,  blue  and  brown  were  used  long 
before  the  time  of  Polygnotus,  and  one  cannot  understand  why 
he  should  have  abstained,  for  instance,  from  using  green  for 
the  representation  of  trees.  But,  doubtless,  painters  like 
Zeuxis  and  Apelles  were  much  freer  than  he  in  their  variety 
of  colouring. 

The  colouring  of  Polygnotus  must  have  been  flat  and  uni- 
form, without  much  light  and  shade.  The  full  introduction  of 
this  enormously  important  element  into  painting  was  largely 
the  work  of  the  Athenian  Apollodorus,  who  thus  embarked  on 
a great  sea  of  discoveries.  He  is  described  as  seeking  after 
illusion  in  painting,  — doubtless  a very  primitive  illusion,  — 
but  the  attempt  was  frowned  on  by  some  of  the  stricter  spirits 
of  the  time,  among  others  by  Plato.  Of  light  and  shade  in  an- 
cient painting  we  can  judge  only  from  the  frescoes  of  the  Roman 
age.  Pausias,  a contemporary  of  Apelles,  is  said  to  have  greatly 
succeeded  with  perspective  and  foreshortening. 

There  are  two  other  ways,  neither  of  them  quite  satisfactory, 
by  which  we  can  approach  the  painting  of  the  later  fifth  and 
fourth  century  masters.  In  the  first  place  we  can  make  the 
best  of  such  fragmentary  remains  of  paintings  of  this  period 
as  have  come  down  to  us;  and  in  the  second  place  we  can 
feel  our  way  back,  with  great  caution,  from  the  mural  paint- 
ings of  Rome  and  Pompeii  to  an  earlier  and  nobler  stage  of  art. 

I will  mention  a few  of  the  most  important  extant  remains 

1 Die  menschliche  Gestalt  in  dev  Geschichte  der  Kunst , p.  66.  This  is  a work 
full  of  genial  and  interesting  observations. 


204 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  the  period.  On  the  key-stone  of  a grave  in  the  Crimea  was 
found  a painting  of  the  head  of  a woman,  crowned  with 
flowers.1  As  in  the  grave  itself  there  was  found  a gold  coin  of 
Alexander  the  Great,  the  tomb  can  scarcely  have  been  later 
than  about  300  b.c.  The  painting  represents  a lady  with  dark 

brown  hair  and  eyes.  From  the 
back  of  the  head  falls  a red  veil. 
In  the  ear  is  an  earring,  on  the 
neck  a pearl  necklace,  in  the  hand 
and  on  the  head  garlands  of  flowers. 
But  this  work,  though  interesting, 
is  of  course  the  production  of  a 
third-rate  artist.  At  a somewhat 
higher  level  of  art,  and  more  easily 
accessible  to  an  English  student, 
are  the  paintings  of  the  celebrated 
Amazon  sarcophagus  of  Corneto,2 
which  are  indeed  much  injured, 
but  in  parts  fairly  clear,  and  which 
appear  to  be  by  a Greek  artist  of 
the  second  rank.  In  these  paint- 
ings eight  or  nine  colours  are  used. 
The  expression  of  some  of  the  heads 
is  very  striking ; and  the  contrast  between  the  sunburned 
bodies  of  the  Greeks  and  the  white  forms  of  the  women  is 
remarkable.  I shall  content  myself  with  giving  in  the  text  a 
single  example  of  later  fifth-century  painting ; but,  in  fact,  it 
is  not  an  example  of  painting,  but  only  of  drawing  as  a prepa- 
ration for  painting.  In  graves  in  the  Crimea  wooden  sarcoph- 
agi have  been  found,  to  which  were  affixed  plates  of  ivory,  and 


Fig.  56.  — Ivory  Tablet : 
St.  Petersburg. 


1 Figured  in  the  Russian  Comptus  Rendus  for  1865  in  the  exact  colours.  The 
original  has  now  faded.  The  colours  are  white,  red,  yellow,  brown,  green,  and 
blue. 

2 Figured  in  colours  in  the  plates  (36-38)  of  the  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies, 
1883.  The  original  is  at  Florence. 


XII 


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other  such  plates  were  used  to  decorate  lyres ; they  were  orig- 
inally painted  with  bright  colours,  and  still  retain  incised 
outlines  of  the  designs.  One  fragment  is  here  figured  1 (Fig. 
56),  perhaps  belonging  to  a lyre,  and  certainly  preserving  to  us 
very  charming  drawings  of  a male  and  female  figure. 

Some  marble  tablets,  found  at  Pompeii  and  exhibited  in  the 
Museum  of  Naples,  bear  designs  sketched  in  red  which  bear  the 
marks  of  an  origin  in  the  fifth  and  fourth  centuries,  and  in  the 
Museo  delle  Terme  are  many  pictures  from  villas  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Rome,2  the  character  and  composition  of  which 
certainly  go  back  to  good  Greek  times.  But  such  works  as 
these  can  only  inform  us  how  decorative  painters  composed 
and  drew  small  groups  for  the  adornment  of  furniture  and 
houses.  They  do  not  greatly  add  to  the  knowledge  which  we 
have  already  gained  from  such  works  as  the  grave-reliefs  of 
Athens  or  the  sarcophagi  of  Constantinople.  What  would 
especially  interest  us,  if  we  could  ascertain  it,  would  be  how 
Zeuxis  and  Apelles  used  colour,  how  they  composed  great  paint- 
ings, and  what  amount  of  expression  they  put  into  their  works. 

As  to  colouring,  we  can  scarcely  expect  ever  to  acquire 
much  knowledge,  for  colour,  when  it  does  not  disappear,  so 
greatly  changes  with  time  that  it  gives  a false  impression. 
Probably  the  sarcophagus  of  Corneto  and  the  Alexander  sar- 
cophagus of  Constantinople  will  give  us  as  good  information 
as  we  are  ever  likely  to  acquire  on  this  subject.  It  would 
seem  that  colour  was  not  used  in  antiquity,  as  in  modern  art, 
in  a thousand  fine  observations  and  delicate  suggestions,  but 
was  always  secondary  to  form,  just  as  music  was  subordinate 
to  poetry  in  songs.  This  is  what  we  should  have  expected ; for 
form  is  related  to  intellect,  and  colour  to  feeling  and  emotion. 
And  Greek  work,  as  known  to  us,  is  restrained  on  the  emotional 
side ; nor  has  it  any  touch  of  mysticism. 

1 From  Antiquites  du  Bosphore  Cimmerienr  PL  79,  1.  The  subject  appears  to 
be  the  Judgment  of  Paris.  2 Mon.  dell.  Inst.,  XII.,  21,  22,  etc. 


206 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


As  regards  composition,  our  information  is  very  defective. 
We  have  no  descriptions  of  great  works  by  Parrhasius  or  Apel- 
les in  Pausanias,  and  the  descriptions  of  paintings  left  us  by 
such  authors  as  Philostratus  and  writers  of  the  Anthology 
have  very  little  value.  The  greatest  pictures  of  later  Greece, 
such  as  the  Helen  of  Zeuxis,  the  Theseus  of  Euphranor,  the 
Demos  of  Parrhasius,  the  Alexander  of  Apelles,  were  single 
figures.  It  has  been  suggested  that  the  well-known  Pompeian 
painting  which  represents  the  sacrifice  of  Iphigeneia  1 is  derived 
from  a painting  of  much  earlier  time.  Dr.  Helbig  observes 
in  regard  to  it:2  “The  composition  is  regulated  according 
to  the  rules  of  early  and  strict  symmetry : around  the  central 
group”  (which  consists  of  Iphigeneia  herself  borne  by  two 
Greeks)  “we  find  corresponding  to  one  another,  below,  the 
figures  of  Calchas  and  Agamemnon;  above,  Artemis  and  a 
nymph.  Any  crossing  of  the  lines  of  the  figures  is  as  far  as 
possible  avoided,  so  that  but  little  modification  would  be 
needed  before  translating  the  group  into  relief.  The  figures 
who  hold  Iphigeneia  are  represented  on  a smaller  scale  than 
Calchas  and  Agamemnon,  according  to  the  ideal  principle  of 
early  art,  which  expresses  the  importance  of  various  figures  by 
their  dimensions.  In  the  garments  of  the  king,  Calchas,  and 
the  supposed  Diomedes,  we  see  clearly  the  old  style  of  treat- 
ment of  folds.”  It  has  been  suggested  that  this  picture  may 
go  back  to  a work  of  Timanthes,  who  is  said  to  have  painted 
the  subject,  and  to  have  represented  Agamemnon  (as  here) 
with  face  veiled  to  hide  his  grief.  But  if  Helbig’s  criticism  is 
correct,  q,s  I hold  it  to  be,  it  would  point  to  an  earlier  stage  of 
art  than  the  time  of  Timanthes,  who  was  a fourth-century 
artist. 

One  of  the  most  striking  of  all  ancient  pictures  is  the  Pom- 

1 Museo  Borbonico,  IV.,  3.  This  engraving,  which  is  stylistically  quite 
worthless,  is  repeated  by  Baumeister  and  Roscher  s.v.  Iphigeneia. 

1 W andegemalde  Campaniens , p.  283. 


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207 


peian  mosaic  representing  the  charge  of  Alexander  the  Great 
at  the  battle  of  Issus.  This  admirable  work  would  seem  to  be 
a copy  of  a painting  made  not  long  after  the  time  of  Alexander ; 
and  since  it  is  in  stone,  it  has  preserved  to  our  day  all  its  colour- 
ing and  its  freshness.  Its  evidence  is  of  the  greatest  value, 
in  several  respects.  I engrave  (Fig.  57),  from  a photograph, 
the  central  part,  which  represents  the  panic  and  flight  of  Darius 
and  his  charioteer ; to  the  left  are  the  charging  Greeks,  and  in 
the  foreground  a young  Persian  trying  to  curb  a terrified  horse. 
Lange  1 seems  to  me  to  have  rightly  explained  the  motive. 
The  attention  of  both  Darius  and  the  young  knight  in  the 
foreground  is  concentrated  on  a young  Persian  on  horseback 
who  has  just  fallen  before  the  lance  of  Alexander,  who  charges 
from  the  left.  The  fallen  man  is  probably  a son  of  Darius. 
The  father  cannot  help,  in  spite  of  his  flight,  holding  out  a hand 
towards  him.  The  knight  in  the  foreground  has  dismounted 
to  give  him  his  own  horse ; but  it  is  too  late. 

Lange  considers  the  original  of  this  mosaic  to  have  been  one 
of  the  very  greatest  pictures  ever  produced.  I must  not  dwell 
on  it  longer.  But  it  certainly  serves  to  prove  to  us  that  the 
Greek  painters  of  the  fourth  century  were  not  afraid  of  attempt- 
ing very  complicated  grouping,  and  were  skilled  in  foreshorten- 
ing. The  reader  may  compare  the  figure  of  a Nereid,  seen 
from  behind.  (Fig.  78,  below.)  And  it  indicates  that  they 
were  very  successful  in  that  expression  of  emotion  in  the  face 
of  which  Socrates  discoursed  to  Parrhasius.  It  may  indeed  be 
suggested  that  the  later  copyist  may  have  in  these  respects 
modified  his  original.  But  a comparison  of  the  Alexander 
sarcophagus,  a work  which  has  a decided  likeness  to  this  mosaic, 
will  prevent  us  from  regarding  the  latter  as  in  any  essential 
respect  a work  of  the  Roman  age. 

It  is  more  than  probable  that  the  influence  of  the  great 
painters  of  Greece  went  on  working  during  the  Roman  age, 
* 1 Op.  cit.,  p.  112. 


208 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP, 


Fig.  57. — Pompeian  mosaic. 


XII 


GREEK  PAINTING 


209 


and  that  it  affected  not  only  the  mural  painters  of  the  Italian 
cities,  but  even  the  artists  of  a still  later  class  of  monuments, 
the  sarcophagi  made  under  the  Roman  Empire  for  wealthy 
citizens.  The  subjects  of  many  of  these  sarcophagi  are  taken 
from  Greek  myth,  and  the  manner  of  composition  of  the  reliefs 
is  often  rather  that  of  painting  than  that  of  sculpture.1  Of 
these,  as  of  the  paintings  of  Pompeii,  I cannot  here  treat; 
they  offer  far  too  complicated  a subject,  and  one  outside  the 
limits  which  I have  accepted. 

On  the  whole,  Greek  painting  through  all  its  history  must, 
so  far  as  we  can  judge,  have  shown  the  same  qualities  as  Greek 
sculpture.  The  technical  difficulties  of  painting,  which  to  the 
end  the  artists  only  partially  surmounted,  and  the  immense 
vogue  of  the  art  of  sculpture,  tended  to  make  painting  approxi- 
mate to  sculpture  far  more  closely  than  it  does  in  modern 
times.  And  this  tendency  fitted  in  naturally  with  the  general 
character  of  Greek  art,  its  idealism,  its  definiteness  and  its 
intellectuality.  The  superior  expressiveness  and  suggestive- 
ness of  painting  were  not  fully  appreciated  in  Greece : land- 
scape-painting  in  particular  was  always  crude  and  wanting  in 
imagination.  It  was  in  the  drawing  of  single  figures,  the 
arrangement  of  groups,  in  the  expression  of  character  and  of 
pathos  in  human  forms,  attitudes  and  faces  that  the  Greek 
painter  excelled.  And  in  these  respects  even  the  paintings  of 
Pompeii,  which  must  not  for  a moment  be  regarded  as  examples 
of  what  Greece  could  do  in  the  way  of  painting,  have  won 
very  high  praise  from  able  modern  critics.2 

It  would  seem  that  the  lead  in  the  changing  tendencies 
which  mark  the  evolution  of  Greek  art  usually  belonged  to 

1 The  sarcophagi  with  mythical  subjects  are  collected  by  Professor  Robert 
in  the  second  and  third  volumes  of  the  great  German  publication,  Die  antiken 
Sarkophag-Reliefs. 

2 See  especially  the  remarks  of  J.  Lange  in  the  second  volume  of  his 
Menschliche  Gestalt. 


210 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XII 


the  painter,  whose  art  was  naturally  freer,  and  less  closely  lim- 
ited by  the  influence  of  the  school.  Cimon  of  Cleonae  may  be 
regarded  as  having  put  the  last  hand  to  archaic  art,  which  has, 
even  in  modern  days,  great  fascination ; Polygnotus  certainly 
acted  as  a forerunner  of  the  great  school  of  Pheidias ; Parrhasius 
and  Zeuxis  introduced  the  pathetic  tendency  which  passed  on  to 
Praxiteles.  The  painting  of  the  Hellenistic  age,  to  judge  from 
Pompeii,  must  have  in  variety  and  expressiveness  greatly 
surpassed  the  sculpture  of  that  age.  It  is  however  remarkable 
that  in  portraiture  the  sculpture  of  later  Greece  excels  beyond 
all  comparison  the  superficial  and  vulgar  works,  mostly  from 
Egyptian  sarcophagi,  which  are  almost  all  we  possess  in  the 
way  of  painted  Greek  portraits.  On  the  other  hand,  some 
of  the  little  sketches  of  Pompeii  show  a lightness  of  hand  and 
boldness  which  are  impossible  to  workers  in  the  heavy  materials 
of  clay  and  marble. 

The  most  important  of  the  recent  additions  to  our  know- 
ledge of  ancient  painting  come  from  excavations  at  Pagasae 
in  Thessaly,  where  there  have  been  rescued  a large  number  of 
painted  sepulchral  slabs,  which  had  been  built  into  the  walls 
of  buildings.1  These  retain  much  of  their  original  colouring. 
They  belong  to  the  Hellenistic  age.  At  present  few  of  them 
have  been  published,  and  those  imperfectly.  It  is  however 
clear  that  they  are  the  work  of  very  poor  artists : they  are 
as  far  below  the  level  of  contemporary  sculpture  as  are  the  por- 
traits from  Egypt. 

1 Arbanitopoullos,  QtcrcraXci ca  ij.irqfj.eia.,  1909 ; also  the  Ephemeris  Archaiolog- 
iki  for  1908. 


CHAPTER  XIII 


CLASSES  OF  VASES 

Although  the  painting  of  vases  is  necessarily  among  the 
lower  forms  of  art,  a form  seldom  practised  by  men  of  high 
talent  or  originality,  yet  vases  are  an  inestimable  record  of  one 
side  of  Greek  art.  They  cannot  reproduce  the  colouring  of 
Greek  frescoes,  nor  the  impression  of  their  dignity  and  charm, 
but  they  show  us  the  character  of  grouping  and  of  drawing  in 
Greek  painting.  They  are  first-hand  documents,  belonging  to 
the  best  period  of  art;  treating  the  same  subjects  as  were 
treated  by  the  great  masters,  and  perhaps  in  a not  dissimilar 
way.  They  are  mostly  from  the  workshops  of  Athens,  and 
show  some  of  the  finer  qualities  of  Attic  work  — simplicity, 
grace,  and  a wonderful  appreciation  of  the  beauty  of  the  human 
form.  And  they  are  especially  interesting  as  treating  many 
of  the  themes  of  Greek  mythology  in  a way  independent  and 
yet  not  very  dissimilar  from  that  of  the  poets. 

Periods  and  Schools  of  Vases.  — It  is  not  intended  here  to  give, 
even  in  outline,  a history  of  Greek  vase-painting.  No  such 
history  quite  suitable  at  present  exists.  The  best  are,  in 
English,  H.  B.  Walters,  History  of  Ancient  Pottery ; Harrison 
and  MacColl,  Greek  Vase-paintings ; and  the  translation  of  E. 
Pottier’s  Douris , with  the  catalogues  of  the  British  Museum 
and  the  Ashmolean  Museum.  All  that  will  be  here  given  is 
a statement  of  the  principal  classes  of  vases,  with  their  countries 
and  periods. 

(1)  Minoan  and  Mycenaean  age.  — The  prehistoric  record 
of  Greece  and  Asia  Minor  has  of  late  years  been  revealed,  age 

211 


212 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


beyond  age,  as  far  back  as  the  Neolithic  period.  This  record 
consists  in  great  part  of  pottery,  which  can  be  assigned  to  the 
respective  strata  of  civilization  which  preceded  the  historic 
age  of  Greece.  Some  of  it  is  decoratively  very  beautiful,  espe- 
cially the  so-called  Kamareis  ware.  Such  pottery,  however, 
does  not  come  within  the  scope  of  this  work ; first,  because  it 
is  pre-Hellenic,  or  at  all  events  separated  by  a deep  chasm  from 
the  productions  of  historic  Hellas;  second,  because  it  does  not, 
if  we  except  a very  few  vases  of  the  later  Mycenaean  age, 
present  to  us  any  representations  taken  from  human  life. 
It  is  fair  to  say  that  the  pretty  Kamareis  ware  presents  closer 
analogies  to  the  art  of  Japan  than  to  that  of  historic  Greece : 
it  can  therefore  give  us  no  light  on  the  subject  we  are  investigat- 
ing, the  laws  and  the  principles  of  Greek  art. 

(2)  Geometric  (900-700  b.c.).  — This  is  the  ware  which  suc- 
ceeds the  Mycenaean  in  Greece.  It  is  so  called  because  geo- 
metric patterns  are  the  kernel  of  its  decoration,  and  even  the 
figures  of  men  and  animals  become  on  it  little  more  than  geo- 
metric figures.  An  example  will  show  its  general  character 


(Fig.  58).  This  ware  undoubtedly  belongs  to  Greeks,  to  the 
semi-civilized  races  who  had  conquered  the  wealthy  and  lux- 
urious Mycenaeans  and  succeeded  to  their  dominions.  It 
shows  close  analogies  to  the  pottery  and  bronze  work  found  in 


XIII 


CLASSES  OF  VASES 


213 


the  north  of  Europe,  and  at  such  sites  as  Hallstadt,  whether 
the  style  originally  spread  south  from  the  Baltic,  or  north 
from  the  Mediterranean.  Geometric  vases,  especially  those 
from  the  early  cemeteries  of  Athens,  furnish  us  with  some 
interesting  transcripts  from  the  daily  life  of  the  primitive 
Greeks,  their  warlike  expeditions,  and  their  burial  customs ; yet 
as  to  real  Greek  style  they  give  us  very  little  light.  They  help 
us  rather  to  trace  the  origins  of  Hellenic  civilization  than  to 
forecast  to  what  it  would  grow  after  ages  of  splendid  develop- 
ment. 

(3)  Early  black-figured  (700-550  b.c.).  — In  the  seventh  cen- 
tury the  rapid  rise  of  Greek  civilization  began,  and  to  keep 
pace  with  the  civilization,  the  pottery  of  Greece  emerged  from 
its  rude  beginnings,  and  began  to  become  distinctive.  Recep- 
tive, as  is  often  the  case  when  a strong  national  movement  takes 
place,  the  potters  were  quite  ready  to  use  and  adopt  whatever 
shapes  of  vases  and  decorative  principles  seemed  worth  adopt- 
ing from  the  peoples  around.  Hence  many  Oriental  motives  — 


in# 

& 

l?7TTTTTWlfJrTF¥rTTT?rW?I*TfTWTTJfTf*?TWTfT?H 

Fig.  59. — Archaic  pyxis. 


the  palmette,  the  lotus,  the  lion,  the  griffin,  the  winged  human 
figure  — appear  on  Greek  vases.  These  figures  mostly  appear 
ranged  in  horizontal  bands,  which  run  round  the  vases  one  above 
another,  in  a manner  usual  in  the  pottery  and  metal  ware  of 
the  East.  It  is  interesting  to  trace  the  process  whereby  the 
human  form  and  tales  of  Greek  mythology  gradually  make 
their  way  amid  the  animal  and  plant  forms.  A good  example 
is  a pyxis  or  box  of  Corinthian  ware  in  the  British  Museum  1 
(Fig.  59),  on  the  cover  of  which  is  depicted  a procession  of 

1 Published  by  Sir  Cecil  Smith  in  the  Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , V.,  p.  176. 


214 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


animals,  and  round  it  a procession  of  lions  which  is  somewhat 
incongruously  interrupted  by  a representation  of  Herakles  dis- 
charging an  arrow  at  the  triple  Geryon,  whose  oxen  stand  by 
in  a group.  When  once  the  human  element  has  made  its 
appearance  on  these  orientalizing  vases,  it  soon  expels  the  mere 
rows  of  animals  fighting  or  walking  in  line,  either  to  the  neck 
of  the  vase  or  to  the  place  just  above  its  foot.  Thus  almost 
from  the  first  the  Greeks  subordinate  the  borrowed  elements 
to  the  expression  of  their  own  ideas  in  accordance  with  their 
own  artistic  principles,  and  we  see  the  style  of  which  I speak 
under  the  next  head  gradually  consolidating.  Mythological 
groups  and  types  become  established,  and  artistic  tradition 
arises.  In  this  period  there  were  active  potteries  in  several 
of  the  Ionian  cities  of  Asia,  such  as  Miletus,  Samos,  and  Camei- 
rus  in  Rhodes ; while,  in  Greece  proper,  Corinth,  Chalcis  in 
Euboea,  and  Athens  seem  to  have  surpassed  other  cities  in  the 
potter's  art. 

(4)  Later  {Attic)  black-figured  (550-480  b.c.).  — By  the  mid- 
dle of  the  sixth  century,  Athens  seems  to  have  gained  the  first 
place  in  the  manufacture  of  vases,  and  to  have  developed 
a formed  and  consistent  style.  The  principle  of  it  was  to 
varnish  with  black  the  handles,  the  feet,  and  the  less  impor- 
tant parts  of  a vase ; but  to  reserve  certain  fields  of  square, 
oblong,  or  circular  form,  whereon  to  paint  a scene  from  mythol- 
ogy, heroic  story,  or  daily  life.  In  this  style  the  figures  were 
represented  in  silhouette  — that  is,  with  a wash  of  black 
paint,  on  which,  for  certain  details,  white  or  red  were  added. 
The  flesh  of  women  was  commonly  given  in  white,  the  hair 
and  beards  of  men  and  parts  of  garments  in  red.  The  inner 
markings  were  made  by  a tool  in  the  clay,  the  silhouette  being 
cut  through,  and  the  red  body  of  the  vase  showing.  That  we 
are  now  in  the  full  current  of  Greek  artistic  activity  is  shown 
by  the  fact  that  many  Attic  black-figured  vases  bear  the  signa- 
tures of  those  who  painted  them,  of  such  artists  as  Amasis, 


XIII 


CLASSES  OF  VASES 


215 


Exekias,  and  Nearchus.  In  fact,  the  vases  of  this  class  furnish 
us  with  a large  number  of  interesting  representations.  And 
these  well  illustrate  some  of  the  fundamental  artistic  princi- 
ples of  Greece.  But  the  primitiveness  and  monotony  of  the 
method  of  drawing,  combined  with  the  enormous  demand  set 
up  by  the  Etruscan  custom  of  burying  Attic  ware  with  their 
dead,  caused  the  production  of  it  to  be  usually  hasty  and 
conventional.  Its  abundance  in  our  museums  is  perhaps  a 
misfortune.  At  any  rate,  it  was  like  the  letting  out  of  water 
when,  towards  the  end  of  the  sixth  century,  the  red-figured 
method  of  vase-painting  was  introduced,  though  the  black- 
figured  method  did  not,  for  perhaps  half  a century,  go  out  of 
use. 

(5)  Red-figured  (Attic) ; severe  (525-460  b.c.).  — In  this  style 

the  black  silhouette  was  given  up  for  outline  figures  drawn  in 

black  on  the  red  surface  of  the  vase,  while  the  background  was 

painted  out  in  black  varnish.  The  great  advantage  of  the 

new  process  was  that  inner  markings  could  henceforth,  instead 

of  being  cut  with  a tool,  be  drawn  with  the  pen  or  brush.  Thus 

the  formality  of  the  design  was  greatly  reduced,  and  a path 

toward  freedom  opened.  What  especially  distinguishes  red- 

figured  vases  from  the  first  is  the  facility  and  beauty  of  the 

lines  in  which  they  are  drawn.  To  speak  of  them  as  painted  is 

barely  correct ; the  designs  are  essentially  linear  drawings,  and 

as  such  they  must  be  judged.  It  is  in  this  fashion  that  the 

best  known  of  the  Attic  vase-painters,  Euphronius,1  Oltus, 

* 

Duris,  and  the  rest  worked  : their  favourite  form  was  the  kylix. 

The  interest  attaching  to  Greek  vases  certainly  centres  in 
the  early  red-figured  drawings.  The  reasons  may  be  briefly 
stated : — 

(a)  They  are  works  of  Attic  artists,  of  the  stirring  period  of 
the  Persian  wars.  The  sculptural  remains  of  Athens  at  this 

1 On  Euphronius  Dr.  W.  Klein  has  written  a valuable  monograph.  Lists  of 
works  of  other  painters  are  given  in  his  Vasen  mit  Meister signatures, . 


216 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


time,  or  at  least  at  the  time  just  after  Salamis,  are  few,  but 
it  was  as  full  of  interest  in  the  history  of  art  as  in  political 
history.  Attic  taste,  soon  to  give  birth  to  works  memorable 
forever,  was  rapidly  forming  under  the  influence  of  all  that 
was  most  noteworthy  in  the  art  work  of  Greece  and  Asia, 
which  found  a focus  at  Athens.  The  stately  conventions  of  the 
archaic  period  were  giving  way  before  the  burst  of  fresh  life 
and  energy  which  was  pouring  into  art  under  the  enthusiasm  of 
triumphant  nationality.  Decade  by  decade,  almost  year  by 
year,  Hellenic  art  was  throwing  off  the  limitations  of  its  child- 
hood, and  becoming  mature. 

(/3)  The  school  is  essentially  a school  of  vase-painting,  not 
merely  of  painting  adapted  to  vases.  The  designs  were  com- 
posed with  a view  to  vases,  and  thus  have  the  intellectual 
charm  which  attaches  to  the  study  of  artistic  strivings  devoted 
to  rational  ends.  As  a natural  result,  there  is  a remarkable 
freshness  about  these  works.  They  are  strictly  architectonic 
in  character,  and  yet  they  are  perfectly  full  of  the  life  of  the 
day,  representing  not  only  myth,  but  the  drinking-bout,  athlet- 
ics, fashionable  life.  They  combine,  so  to  speak,  primness  of 
manner  with  underlying  naturalness,  humour,  delight  in  life. 

(7)  These  vases  are  very  largely  signed,  and  thus  enable  us 
to  compare  one  with  another  the  artists  of  the  period.  This 
gives  a human,  almost  a personal,  interest  to  them  ; we  trace  the 
influence  of  one  vase-painter  on  another,  and  the  variations  of 
style  in  the  works  of  one  man.  The  vases  also  bear  the  names 
of  the  most  celebrated  beauties  of  the  day,  painted  on  them  for 
fashion’s  sake  — such  names  as  Miltiades,  Cleinias,  Alcibiades, 
which  are  so  familiar  to  lovers  of  Greece.  Thus  they  help  the 
imagination,  and  add  a touch  of  reality  to  the  narratives  of 
Herodotus  and  Thucydides. 

(6)  Red-figured  (Attic) ; free  (400-400  b.c.).  — Towards  the 
middle  of  the  fifth  century  the  influence  of  the  great  Greek 
painters,  Polygnotus,  Micon,  Panaenus  the  brother  of  Pheidias, 


XIII 


CLASSES  OF  VASES 


217 


and  others,  began  to  make  itself  felt  in  vase-painting.1  This 
influence  worked  both  for  good  and  evil.  The  treatment  of 
perspective  improved,  the  human  body  was  rendered  with 
greater  correctness  and  beauty,  and  more  freedom  from  con- 
vention was  introduced.  But  on  the  other  hand,  vase-painting, 
as  such,  drifted  from  its  old  moorings  and  took  the  first  move 
in  the  direction  of  decline.  The  designs,  though  in  some  ways 
showing  a greater  mastery,  are  no  longer  so  thoroughly  adapted 
to  the  field  for  which  they  are  designed,  or  the  vase  which 
they  adorn.  We  no  longer  regard  them  as  nearly  perfect 
within  narrowly  fixed  limits,  but  are  disposed  to  look  beyond 
them  to  the  contemporary  fresco  works  of  which  they  are 
sometimes  a reminiscence.  But  actual  competition  with  these 
greater  paintings  was  impossible ; hence  the  vase-painter  became 
less  well  satisfied  with  his  work,  which  he  now  seldom  signs. 
He  is  no  longer  ambitious,  but  has  sunk  from  an  artist  to  a 
craftsman. 

(7)  White-ground  vases  (fifth  century).  — In  this  style,  in 
place  of  drawing  directly  upon  the  red  clay  of  the  vase,  the 
potter  first  covered  its  surface  with  a layer  of 
fine  white  material.  The  importance  of  this 
difference  in  technique  lies  in  the  fact  that 
the  process  of  vase-painting  thus  resembled 
far  more  closely  that  of  fresco-painting;  and 
fresco-painting,  or  painting  on  prepared  wet 
plaster,  was  the  usual  procedure  in  the  great 
art  of  Greece.  As  a natural  consequence, 
the  designs  on  white-ground  vases  are  freer 
and  less  conventional  than  those  on  contem- 
porary red-figured  vases,  and  are  not  merely 
drawings  but  real  paintings,  the  outlines  being 
filled  in  with  washes  of  colour  — red,  yellow, 

1 See  Winter,  Die  jungeren  Attischen  Vasen ; also  chapter  ]?IG  £q  Leky- 

XII  above.  thos  from  Athens. 


218 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


blue  and  brown.  In  the  early  part  of  the  century  this  tech- 
nique was  employed  by  some  of  the  great  Attic  vase-painters, 
such  as  Euphronius  and  Duris,  and  was  used  for  the  kylix  as 
well  as  the  lekythos.  Later  it  was  almost  confined  to  the 
lekythi  specially  made  to  be  buried  with  the  dead,1  which  have 
been  preserved  to  us  in  great  quantities  in  the  cemeteries  of 
Athens,  Eretria  and  Sicily  (Fig.  60). 

These  beautiful  lekythi  may  well  be  compared  with  the 
reliefs  of  Attic  tombs,  which  they  closely  resemble  alike  in  sen- 
timent and  in  their  subjects,  which  are  usually  taken  from  the 
cultus  of  the  dead  at  Athens.  See  chapter  IV. 

(8)  Red-figured  vases ; late  (400-300  b.c.). — A few  of  these  ap- 
pear to  have  been  made  at  Athens ; but  the  supremacy  of  the 
Athenian  vases  passed  away  after  the  failure  of  the  expedition 
against  Syracuse.  Most  of  the  late  vases  were  made  in  lower  Italy, 
especially  at  Tarentum.  The  degeneration  in  vase-designing 
which  set  in  late  in  the  fifth  century  proceeds  rapidly  in  the 
fourth.  Though  some  of  the  vases  of  lower  Italy  are  conspicuous 
for  size  and  elaboration,  the  designs  are  in  style  disappointing, 
showing  softness,  carelessness,  and  want  of  fixed  principle.  Some 
of  them  are,  however,  important  on  account  of  their  subjects, 
and  more  especially  in  relation  to  the  dramas  of  Euripides. 

Forms.  — Although  the  painted  vases  of  our  museums  were 
made  for  decoration,  rather  than  for  use,  since  they  are  too 
fragile  to  be  easily  handled,  or  to  contain  liquid,  yet  in  their 
forms  they  resemble  the  vessels  of  coarse  earthenware  or  of 
precious  metal  which  were  used  in  the  service  of  Greek  houses. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  the  forms  are  evidently  closely  copied  from 
metal  prototypes.  It  is  unnecessary  here  to  detail  all  the  forms 
used  for  painted  vases,  which  are  in  number  many  hundred;2 

1 As  to  these,  see  the  work  of  Pottier,  Les  lecythes  blancs  attiques.  Plate 
II.  of  that  work  represents  a forgery. 

2 For  engravings  of  forms,  see  the  Catalogue  of  Vases  in  the  British  Museum, 
Vols.  II.,  III.,  Introduction;  also  Furtwangler’s  Catalogue  of  Vases  at  Berlin, 
Heydemann’s  Catalogue  of  Vases  at  Naples,  etc. 


XIII 


CLASSES  OF  VASES 


219 


we  need  mention  but  a few  typical  examples ; for  our  concern 
here  is  not  so  much  with  the  potter’s  art,  as  with  the  more  ex- 


pressive and  graphic  manifestations  of  the  Hellenic  spirit. 
The  chief  classes  of  vases  are  the  amphora,  an  ornate  imita- 
tion of  vessels  for  storing  wine,  the  krater  or  mixing  vessel  (Fig. 


Fig.  62.  — Kylix. 


61,  b , c),  the  hydria , with  three  handles  (Fig.  61,  a),  wherein 
water  was  fetched  from  the  well,  the  oenochoe  or  wine-jug 


220 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XIII 


(Fig.  61,  d),  the  kylix  or  drinking-vessel,  the  lekythos  or  oil-flask, 
the  pyxis  or  toilet  vase,  etc.  For  the  purposes  of  the  vase- 
painter  the  most  important  form  was  the  kylix  (Fig.  62),  which 
allowed  of  a series  of  connected  or  complementary  subjects. 
The  two  fields  of  the  vessel  on  the  outside  offered  two  oblong 
spaces,  the  upper  and  lower  lines  of  which  were  curved,  so  that 
each  had  a form  not  unlike  that  of  a pediment,  with  the  action 
culminating  in  the  centre,  while  in  the  interior  was  a circular 
field,  suited  to  a group  of  two  or  three  figures. 

In  the  case  of  the  larger  vases,  such  as  the  amphora  and  the 
krater,  the  field  for  the  design  is  usually  either  oblong  or  square. 

In  early  vases  we  have  com- 
monly a series  of  narrow  bands 
running  round ; but  as  time 
goes  on  greater  simplicity  comes 
in,  and  in  the  best  period  a 
simple  group  which  occupies  a 
space  roughly  square  or  oblong 
is  most  usual  (Fig.  63). 

A noteworthy  point  in  re- 
gard to  Greek  vases  is  that 
the  scenes  depicted  on  them 
have  frequently  a reference  to 
the  purpose  of  the  vase.  As 
the  sepulchral  lekythi  already 
mentioned  bear  subjects  taken 
from  Greek  burial  custom,  so 
there  appear  nuptial  scenes 
on  the  vases  used  at  mar- 
riages, and  scenes  from  the 
lives  of  women  on  the  pots 
which  held  their  unguents. 
On  the  kylix  appear  many  representations  of  the  social  life 
of  Athens. 


CHAPTER  XIV 


vases:  space,  balance,  perspective 

A Greek  Vase  as  a Whole.  — The  form,  the  decoration,  the 
designs,  all  go  together,  and  are  all  worked  out  in  relation  one 
to  the  other.  The  form  requires  a certain  arrangement  of  the 
linear  decoration,  the  decoration  suggests  the  form  of  the  sub- 
jects to  be  drawn  on  the  vase.  And  all  these  elements  of  the 
vase  not  only  bear  simple  relations  one  to  the  other,  but  are  in 
themselves  simple. 

But  the  vase  which  is  a whole  is  made  up  of  parts,  each  of 
which  has  a purpose  in  subordination  to  the  purpose  of  the 
whole.  The  mouth  in  the  oenochoe  is  made  in  trefoil  shape 
for  pouring,  in  an  amphora  wide  to  admit  the  ladle,  in  the 
crater  wider  still.  The  lekythos  has  but  one  handle,  as  it  is 
used  for  oil,  the  amphora  two,  that  it  may  be  lifted  with  two 
hands,  the  hydria  three,  two  for  the  lifting  of  the  vessel  and 
one  whereby  it  may  be  held  in  place  on  the  shoulder.  The 
breadth  of  the  foot  is  carefully  proportioned  to  the  diameter 
of  the  vase,  so  as  to  secure  a reasonable  stability.  Handles, 
foot  and  neck,  it  may  be  added,  were  usually  made  apart, 
and  joined  on  to  the  trunk  of  the  vase  when  shaped,  but  of 
course  before  baking. 

Some  of  the  strict  rational  laws  of  decoration  which  we  found 
to  be  potent  in  architecture  hold  in  the  case  of  vases  also.  Here 
also  the  parts  which  bear  the  most  strain  are  the  least  adorned, 
and  such  decoration  as  they  bear  follows  the  line  of  strain.  The 
handles,  liable  to  constant  friction,  are  usually  not  decorated; 
the  neck,  if  long,  is  sometimes  adorned  in  linear  fashion,  as  is  a 
column  with  flutings.  In  black-figured  vases  there  is  a circle 

221 


222 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  rays  springing  upward  from  the  foot,  but  later  this  is  given 
up.  The  design  on  red-figured  vases  is  commonly  bounded 
above  and  below  by  a band  of  maeanders  or  other  simple 
pattern,  a band  which  not  only  frames  the  design,  but  seems  to 
hold  the  vase  together.  When  the  shoulder  of  a vase  is  broad,  * 
it  sometimes  bears  a subject;  but  this  is  subordinate  to  the 
principal  subject,  which  occupies  the  main  field  of  the  vase. 
When  the  shoulder  is  narrow,  as  in  lekythi,  it  only  bears  a 
pattern.  Elaborate  palmette  patterns  often  adorn  the  parts 
whence  the  handles  spring,  and  serve  to  separate  the  obverse 
from  the  reverse  design. 

As  the  forms  of  vases  are  fairly  constant,  so  the  decoration 
changes  but  slowly,  and  persists  over  long  periods  of  time. 
Each  class  of  vase  preserves  its  own  kind  of  decoration. 

After  speaking  of  the  forms  of  vases  it  would  be  natural, 
before  coming  to  the  painted  scenes,  to  treat  of  the  elements  of 
their  linear  decoration.  This  is  a matter  which  greatly  interests 
all  real  students  of  vases.  Not  only  is  it  a marvel  to  see  how 
out  of  a few  simple  forms  — the  maeander,  the  lotus,  the  pal- 
mette — the  vase-painter  contrives  a considerable  variety  of 
graceful  borders  and  designs  to  fill  blank  spaces,  but  also  the 
details  of  the  decoration  of  a vase  are  among  the  surest  indica- 
tions of  its  date  and  the  place  where  it  was  produced.  The 
reasons  why  the  subject  is  not  here  discussed  are  that  it  is  too 
detailed,  and  too  intimately  connected  with  the  whole  history 
of  vase-painting.  It  would  also  require  an  impossible  number 
of  illustrations.1 

Conditions  of  Space.  — In  examining  the  designs  on  a vase, 
the  first  thing  to  consider  is  the  conditions  of  space.  After 
the  very  early  period,  the  field  on  a vase  reserved  for  the  de- 
signs was  clearly  marked  out,  and  often  bounded  by  lines  of 
maeanders  or  other  ornament.  The  ordinary  forms  of  the  field 

1 A good,  though  not  very  recent,  book  on  the  subject  of  the  decoration  of 
vases  is  Lau’s  Die  griechischen  Vasen,  with  the  text  by  Brunn  and  Krell. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


223 


are  oblong,  square,  or  round.  In  the  case  of  the  kylix,  as  we 
have  seen  (Fig.  62),  the  peculiar  shape  of  the  designs  on  the 
exterior  gives  them  a character  approaching  that  of  the  pedi- 
ment. The  square  field,  if  simply  treated,  will  resemble  that 
of  the  metope,  and  long  spaces  of  small  height  will  naturally 
lend  themselves  to  continuous  scenes  such  as  those  which  we 
find  in  the  friezes  of  temples.  Thus  all  the  kinds  of  decora- 
tive sculpture  which  belong  to  Greek  temples  may  be  said  to 
have  parallels  in  vase-painting. 

In  the  vases  of  the  early  classes  there  is  conspicuous  what 
has  been  called  a horror  vacui  on  the  part  of  the  designer.  He 
has  a strong  objection  to  allowing  any  part  of  the  field  of  a 


Fig.  64.  — Vase  from  Rhodes. 


224 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


vase  to  remain  undecorated.  For  this  reason,  probably,  the 
whole  surface  is  covered  with  bands  of  animals,  or  processions 
of  monsters  superimposed  one  above  the  other.  The  horror 
vacui  may  take  a very  simple  and  naive  form.  The  spaces 

in  the  designs  which 
adorn  early  Ionian  or 
Corinthian  vases  are 
filled  up  with  little 
geometric  patterns  or 
rosettes  (Fig.  64).  In 
the  somewhat  more 
developed  works  of 
early  black-figured 
classes,  the  subjects 
of  which  are  chariot- 
groups  or  simple 
groups  of  human  fig- 
ures, flying  birds, 
hares,  dogs  and  other 
animals  are  often  in- 
troduced for  the  same  purpose,  and  without  reference  to  the 
subject  portrayed.  As  an  example  I figure  a kylix  of  the 
Spartan  class  (Fig.  65),  on  which  is  represented  a hero  slaying 
a serpent  in  front  of  a temple,  while  flying  birds,  a hare  and 
a serpent  fill  up  the  field.1  Another  good  example  will  be 
found  in  the  owl  beneath  Hermes  in  Fig.  101. 

Afterwards  one  may  find  a survival  of  the  same  principle  in 
the  skill  with  which  the  attitudes  and  positions  of  figures  are 
so  contrived  that  they  fit  one  into  the  other,  and  so  occupy  the 
space  that  no  blank  meets  the  eye.  A better  example  could 
scarcely  be  found  than  a vase-painting  of  Hiero  (Fig.  66),  repre- 
senting a dance  of  Maenads,2  where  we  have  a very  beautiful 
composition  perfectly  adapted  to  the  space  at  the  disposal  of 

1 Arch.  Zeitung , 1882,  PI.  XII.,  2.  2 Wiener  Vorlegeblatter,  A.  PL  4. 


Fig.  65.  — Spartan  vase. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


225 


the  artist.  It  will  be  observed  how  the  thyrsus  of  one  maenad, 
and  the  fawn  carried  by  another,  fit  into  spaces  of  the  back- 


ground ; and  indeed  every  figure  is  planned  with  direct  reference 
to  its  neighbours. 

A good  deal  of  what  has  above  been  said  as  to  the  general 
characteristics  of  early  art,  the  law  of  frontality,  and  the  like, 
applies  quite  as  much  to  vases  as  to  the  sculpture  from  which 
most  of  our  examples  were  taken ; though  it  is  natural,  seeing 
how  much  easier  the  brush  is  to  wield  than  the  chisel,  that  we 
find  transgressions  of  these  unwritten  laws  of  early  art  more 
often  on  vases. 

Dr.  Lowy  formulates  the  following  seven  rules  as  applying 
to  Greek  drawing  and  painting  in  the  archaic  age,1  rules  based 
on  the  psychologic  facts  already  mentioned  (chapter  V). 

1 Die  N aturwiedergdbe , pp.  3-9. 

Q 


226 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


(1)  The  shapes  and  attitudes  of  figures  and  parts  of  figures 
are  limited  to  a few  typical  forms. 

(2)  These  forms  are  stylized,  that  is,  made  into  linear  schemes 
either  regular  or  approaching  regularity. 

(3)  The  representation  of  forms  depends  on  the  outline, 
whether  this  be  a linear  contour,  or  made  into  a silhouette  by 
a filling  of  even  colour. 

(4)  When  colour  is  used,  it  is  uniform,  without  introducing 
degrees  of  light  and  shade. 

(5)  The  figures  generally  offer  themselves  to  the  spectator  in 
their  broadest  aspect  in  every  part. 

(6)  In  a composition,  the  figures,  with  a few  exceptions, 
succeed  one  another  in  a series,  avoiding  overlapping  or  inter- 
section in  important  parts ; thus  the  nearer  and  farther  is  re- 
presented by  an  arrangement  side  by  side. 

(7)  Representation  of  the  place  where  a scene  is  enacted  is 
omitted  or  almost  omitted. 

The  reader  can  test  the  correctness  of  these  views,  which 
must  on  the  whole  be  conceded,  by  examining  any  series  of 
archaic  vase-paintings.  The  first  five  have  perhaps  been  suffi- 
ciently considered  at  the  beginning  of  chapter  VIII.  As  re- 
gards (6)  our  illustrations  abundantly  prove  that  it  holds  even 
to  the  end  of  vase-painting.  (See  Fig.  96.)  Occasional  ex- 
ceptions, however,  may  be  found,  as  Fig.  93.  Place  is,  as  we 
shall  see  in  chapter  XV,  indicated  on  later  vases,  but  in  a sum- 
mary way. 

Balance  and  Symmetry . — I have  spoken  of  these  already  in 
relation  to  Greek  sculpture,  and  the  principles  already  estab- 
lished apply  to  the  figures  painted  on  vases  as  well  as  to  those 
executed  in  bronze  and  marble.  Greek  art  is  statuesque  through- 
out, or  at  least  seems  so  to  a modern  eye,  used  to  the  bold 
attempts  and  endless  experiments  of  modern  painting.  But 
the  working  of  the  principles  in  the  particular  field  of  Greek 
vases  requires  further  explanation. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


227 


This  subject  has  been  ably  dealt  with  by  Professor  Brunn  in 
a series  of  remarkable  papers.1  He  traces  in  sculpture  and  in 
vase-paintings  the  working  of  that  principle  of  balance  and 
measure  which  runs  through  the  whole  of  Greek  poetry,  phi- 
losophy and  art.  He  writes  as  follows : — 

“The  tectonic  principle  is  one  of  the  most  important  factors 
in  Greek  art,  in  the  earliest  time  perhaps  even  the  most  impor- 
tant. It  prevails  in  the  oldest  works  of  art,  the  geometric 
vase-paintings,  the  shields  of  Homer  and  Hesiod,  etc.,  and  if  it 
be  true  that  the  earliest  decorative  art  of  Greece  shows  less 
clumsiness,  laxity  and  inconsistency  than  that  of  other  peo- 
ples, the  reason  is  that  from  the  beginning  onwards  it  rests  on 
this  principle  and  abides  by  it  as  it  presses  toward  greater  and 
greater  freedom.” 

A similar  phenomenon  meets  us  in  poetry  and  literature. 
Rules  and  traditions,  when  not  carried  to  the  length  of  for- 
malism, serve  not  so  much  to  fetter  the  artist  as  to  give  sug- 
gestions to  him,  and  to  offer  him  a fair  opportunity  for  the 
exercise  of  his  talent.  Critics  sometimes  speak  of  the  fatal 
facility  of  blank  verse,  and  this  facility  often  drives  it  in  the 
direction  of  flatness  or  in  that  of  over-elaboration.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  intricate  symmetry  of  the  sonnet  is  probably 
the  condition  which  has  prompted  many  really  poetic  thoughts. 

As  striking  examples  of  the  prevalence  of  the  architectonic 
principle,  Brunn  cites  the  Melian  terra-cottas,  one  of  which, 
representing  the  slaying  of  the  Chimaera  by  Bellerophon,  is 
here  given  (Fig.  67). 2 It  is  obvious  how  the  whole  group  is 
balanced  in  the  manner  of  a geometrical  figure,  much,  indeed, 
like  the  Greek  3.  In  another  of  the  Melian  groups,  that  of 
Perseus  on  horseback,  carrying  the  head  of  Medusa,  whose 
headless  body  is  beneath  the  horse,  we  have  a somewhat  differ- 

1 Ueber  tektonischen  Styl  in  griech.  Plastik  und  Malerei;  Proceedings  of  the 
Bavarian  Academy,  1883  and  1884. 

2 Millingen,  Anc.  Unedited  Monuments , II.,  PI.  3. 


228 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ent  scheme,  J ; in  fact,  this  tendency  to  schemes  is  universal. 
Of  course  in  the  case  of  a terra-cotta  figure,  formed  in  a mould, 
there  are  external  and  obvious  reasons  for  close  and  methodical 


Pig.  67.  — Meiian  terra-cotta. 


packing  of  the  group ; but  the  same  principle  prevails  in  vase- 
painting  ; the  lines  of  a vase  exercise  on  the  artist  the  same 
kind  of  influence  as  the  practical  necessities  of  the  mould ; an 
inner  law  takes  the  place  of  external  pressure. 

Turning  to  vase-paintings,  we  may  first  note  a point  on  which 
Brunn  specially  insists,  that  vase-paintings  stand  in  a definite 
relation,  not  only  to  the  spaces  which  they  are  to  occupy,  but 
also  to  the  shapes  of  the  vessels  which  they  are  to  decorate. 
The  line  of  gravity  of  the  figures  is  also  the  line  of  gravity  of  the 
vases ; the  vase  is  as  it  were  the  frame  of  the  picture.  This  is 
especially  clear  when  the  subject  is  a simple  one,  as  on  the  little 
amphorae  found  at  Nola  and  so  called  Nolan,  though  they  are 
no  doubt  of  Attic  fabric  (Fig.  68),  and  on  lekythi  (Fig.  69). 

The  relations  to  the  space  to  be  occupied  are,  however,  more 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


229 


important.  We  begin  with  a simple  de- 
sign adapted  to  an  oblong  space  (Fig. 
70).  The  youth  here  depicted  is  care- 
fully balanced  about  a line  passing  from 
the  head  between  the  feet.  If  he  were  in 
profile,  this  could  be  less  perfectly  accom- 


Fig.  69. — Lekythos. 


plished,  since  the  front  of  him  would,  so  to  speak,  outweigh  the 
back.  But  by  turning  the  face  in  one  direction  and  the  foot  in 
another,  and  placing  one  arm  in  each  half,  more  perfect  balance 
is  secured.  In  the  same  way,  when  winged  figures  are  introduced, 
one  wing  is  pointed  forward  and  one  backward,  from  a feeling 
that  the  two  wings  together  would  overbalance  a figure.  (See 
Fig.  18.)  Next  we  may  take  a design  adapted  to  a circular  field 
(Fig.  71).  It  would  well  suit  a square  field,  yet  placed  where 
it  is,  it  seems  ready  to  revolve  round  its  centre : we  feel  the 


230 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


motion  as  well  as  the  direction  of  face  and  limbs  to  be  specially 
suitable.  Another  skilful  adaptation  to  a circular  field  may  be 

observed  on  a vase  of  Epic- 
tetus in  the  British  Museum1 
(Fig.  72).  In  vase-paint- 
ings which  contain  more 
than  one  figure  we  may  trace 
from  early  times  the  same 
careful  balancing.  With 
the  vase  last  cited  one 
may  compare  another  kylix, 
from  the  same  pottery, 
where  two  figures  are  care- 
fully interlaced  (Fig.  73)  .2 

Little  more  than  heraldic 
is  the  grouping  of  human- 
headed birds  and  panthers 
on  a vase  of  the  Ashmolean 
Museum  (Fig.  74).  When 
human  figures  are  intro- 
duced, this  mechanical  bal- 
ance is  naturally  modified 
by  the  action  and  purpose 
of  the  group.  An  example 
Fig.  70.  From  a vase,  Ashmolean  Js  gjyen  from  a vase  (Fig. 

75)  at  Munich,3  where  we 
may  note  two  points : (1)  Sword  and  helmet  form  a pivot, 
on  either  side  of  which  is  a figure  carefully  balanced ; (2) 
these  two  figures  follow  the  lines  of  the  neck  of  the  vase.  Not 
only  is  the  whole  space  used,  but  the  lines  of  gravity  accord  with 
the  form  of  the  vase. 

In  a three-figure  design,  the  midmost  of  the  three  figures  is 


1 British  Museum  Catalogue  of  Vases , III.,  PI.  VI.,  1. 

2 Ibid.,  PI.  VI.,  2.  3 Lau,  PI.  XXIV.,  2. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


231 


often  balanced  about  its  centre  in  the  same  way  as  a single 
figure,  and  the  two  flanking  figures  are  turned  toward  it  (Fig. 
79).  In  a four- 
figure  design  the 
two  midmost  fig- 
ures commonly 
form  a group.  As 
an  example,  we 
may  cite  a vase  in 
the  Ashmolean 
Museum  (Fig.  76), 
where  in  the  midst 
is  Dionysus  and 
an  attendant 
satyr,  forming  a 
group  which  is  on 
each  side  flanked 
by  a maenad 
turned  toward  it. 

More  elaborate  schemes  by  more  skilful  composers,  where 
group  balances  group  rather  than  figure  figure,  and  where  male 

and  female  forms  are  used 
in  contrasted  poses,  may  be 
abundantly  found  on  vases. 
We  have  the  same  develop- 
ment in  sculpture,  from  the 
rigid  symmetry  ,of  the  Aegi- 
netan  pediments  to  the 
thoughtful  balance  of  those 
of  the  Parthenon. 

It  requires  a careful  ob- 
servation to  trace,  in  the 
elaborate  designs  of  the 
more  accomplished  vase- 


Fig.  71.  — From  a kylix. 


232 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


painters,  the  way  in  which  a careful  balance  is  preserved,  and 
yet  is  not  allowed  to  degenerate  into  uniformity  and  insipidity. 
Good  examples  will  be  found  below 
in  Figs.  86,  92,  94,  etc.  Alike  in 
filling  up  the  spaces  of  the  back- 


Fig.  73.  — Kylix  by  Epictetus. 


Fig.  74.  — Vase  in  the  Ashmolean 
Museum. 


ground,  and  in  furthering  the  rhythm  of  the  design,  great  use 
is  made  of  drapery.  I purposely  say  drapery  rather  than  dress, 
drapery  being  dress  treated  rather  in  reference  to  a design  than 
in  reference  to  the  wearer.  In  the  best  Greek  vases  both  of 
these  considerations  are  taken  into  account. 


We  may  next  consider  the  relations  of  the  paintings  on  a 
vase  to  one  another.  Vases  of  the  larger  kinds,  amphorae  in 
particular,  have  usually  what  may  well  be  called  an  obverse 
and  a reverse,  two  groups  on  the  front  and  the  back  of  the  vase, 
corresponding  to  and  balancing  one  another.  These  vases 
show  not  unfrequently  some  continuation  or  correspondence  of 
subject  in  the  two  designs.  For  example,  on  a vase  of  the  class 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


233 


called  Nolan,  because  commonly  found  at  Nola,  though  of 
Attic  fabric  (Fig.  77),  which  is  now  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum,1 
we  see  on  one  side  the  goddess  Eos,  the  Dawn,  who  fell  in  love 
with  Tithonus,  and  Tithonu^  on  the  other.  On  another  vase 
of  the  same  class 2 we  see  Hector  on  one  side  and  Andromache, 
with  the  child  Astyanax,  on  the  other.  However,  more  com- 


Fig.  75. — Vase  at  Munich.  Fig.  76. — Vase  in  Ashmolean  Museum. 


monly  by  far  the  main  design  is  depicted  on  one  side,  while 
the  other  is  occupied  by  a mere  decorative  figure  or  group  with- 
out much  meaning.  It  is  clear  that  these  vessels  were  exhibited 
in  such  a way  that  only  one  side  of  them  was  usually  seen.  In 
the  case  of  the  hydria,  the  oenochoe,  and  the  lekythos,  where 
one  side  of  the  vase  was  occupied  by  the  handle,  one  side  only 
was  used  for  a painted  scene. 

1 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , XIII.,  p.  137.  2 Ibid.,  IX.,  p.  11. 


234 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


The  painter  of  the  kylix,  who  has  two  larger  and  one  smaller 
space  at  his  disposal,  has  a specially  good  opportunity  of  depict- 
ing successive  scenes  from  one  story,  and  sometimes  he  takes 
the  opportunity.  For  example,  on  a kylix  in  the  British 
Museum,1  we  find  depicted  on  the  outside  six  of  the  adven- 
tures of  Theseus,  arranged  in  two  groups,  and  in  the  middle  of 


Fig.  77.  — E^s  and  Tithonus. 


the  interior  a seventh  adventure,  that  with  the  Minotaur. 
Again,  on  the  Troilus  vase  of  Euphronius  2 we  see  on  one  side 
Achilles  seizing  Troilus,  on  the  other  the  Trojans  arming,  while 
in  the  interior  we  have  depicted  the  slaying  of  Troilus  at  the 
altar  of  Apollo.  Such  a planning  is,  however,  unusual,  and 
almost  peculiar  to  the  best  class  of  painters.  More  commonly, 
as  in  the  Francois  vase,  the  chest  of  Cypselus,  and  other  archaic 

1 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies , 1881,  PI.  10. 

2 Klein,  Euphronios , p.  213 ; Gerhard,  Auserlesene  Vasenbilder , PI.  225. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


235 


works,  the  artist  seems  to  pluck  almost  at  random  the  ripe  fruit 
of  the  tree  of  mythology,  and  the  subjects  which  balance  or  ad- 
join one  another  have  no  relation  one  to  the  other.  It  is  often 
tempting,  in  explaining  a beautiful  vase,  to  try  to  trace  some 
motive  of  the  artist  in  putting  together  the  particular  scenes 
which  he  had  selected,  what  Brunn  called  a poetical  relation,  or 
connection  of  ideas ; but  usually  it  is  a lost  labour,  for  the  sub- 
jective feeling  too  much  leads  our  judgment,  and  we  know  by 
long  experience  how  differently  the  mind  of  an  ancient  artist 
worked  from  that  of  a modern  painter.  Unless,  therefore,  the 
connection  between  one  scene  of  a vase  and  another  is  obvious, 
it  is  better  to  be  somewhat  sceptical  in  allowing  it.1 

Perspective  in  Greek  vases  is  a matter  which  may  be  dealt 
with  briefly.  In  the  earlier  classes  of  ware,  balance  takes  the 
place  of  perspective.  Figures  are  placed  so  as  to  correspond 
one  to  the  other  all  in  the  same  plane,  or  are  grouped  together 
in  schemes  — the  wrestling  scheme,  Herakles  and  the  lion,  and 
the  like.  Even  when  greater  skill  became  usual,  towards  the 
middle  of  the  fifth  century,  the  vase-painters  thought,  and 
rightly  thought,  that  figures  much  foreshortened,  or  distorted, 
or  arranged  among  themselves  in  any  fashion  at  all  complicated, 
were  not  suitable  to  the  architectonic  conditions  of  their  art. 
Occasionally,  however,  we  find  on  vases  bolder  poses,  as  in  the 
negro's  head  above  cited  (Fig.  49).  In  some  classes  of  red- 
figured  vases,  especially  those  of  Duris  the  vase-painter,  bold 
experiments  are  tried,  like  those  reported  of  Cimon  of  Cleonae ; 
but  they  are  unusual.  I figure  (Fig.  78)  a notable  example  of 
foreshortening  from  a vase  from  Rhodes  in  the  British  Museum. 
The  representation  is  of  a Nereid  nymph,  who  flies  in  terror  when 
Peleus  seizes  her  sister  Thetis,  and  in  so  doing  turns  her  back  to 
the  spectator. 

Generally  speaking,  as  in  other  branches  of  art,  so  in  this,  it 

1 This  matter  is  discussed  by  Brunn  in  his  Troische  Miscellen,  Part  III.,  and 
by  Robert  in  Bild  und  Lied , p.  97. 


236 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Fig.  78.  — Vase  from  Rhodes  in  the  British  Museum. 


XIV 


VASES:  SPACE,  BALANCE,  PERSPECTIVE 


237 


was  in  accordance  with  the  artistic  instinct  of  the  Greeks  will- 
ingly to  abide  by  the  limitations  set  them  by  the  fixed  rules  of 
tradition.  To  the  end  of  Greek  history  epic  poets  wrote  in  the 
Homeric  dialect,  and  dramatists  never  transgressed  the  limits 
set  by  the  mask  and  the  cothurnus  of  Aeschylus.  It  is  precisely 
this  perfection  by  law  and  within  limits  that  is  the  secret  of 
Greek  art. 

Yet  when,  in  the  days  of  Polygnotus,  a definite  scheme  of 
quasi-perspective  was  introduced  into  fresco-painting,  some 
echoes  of  it  made  their  way  into  the  painting  of  vases.  It 
would  seem  that  until  the  age  of  Polygnotus  painting  had  been 
but  slightly  differentiated  from  relief.  Among  the  few  remains 
of  painting  of  an  earlier  time  than  about  460  b.c.  which  have 
come  down  to  us,  there  is  none  which  could  not  at  once  and 
without  difficulty  be  executed  as  a relief.  And  reliefs,  as  is 
well  known,  largely  depended  for  their  effect  on  the  colours 
with  which  they  were  covered.  It  was,  as  I have  already  shown, 
probably  Polygnotus  and  the  painters  contemporary  with  him 
who  began  with  tentative  steps  to  move  in  the  direction  of  a dis- 
tinctive and  innovating  art  of  painting.  The  Polygnotan  per- 
spective passed  from  mural  paintings  to  vases,  such  as  that  of 
Orvieto  (Fig.  51),  and  that  which  represents  the  exploit  of 
Theseus  (Fig.  52),  together  with  some  other  ways  of  art,  such 
as  telling  a story  by  allusion.  (See  above,  chapter  XII.) 

Few  vase-paintings  are  more  masterly  than  those  of  the  class 
just  mentioned.  Yet  the  old  bottles  could  not  contain  the  new 
wine,  but  in  time  were  shattered  by  it.  Even  Polygnotan  per- 
spective was  scarcely  to  be  reconciled  with  the  strict  architec- 
tonic rules  under  which  Greek  vase-painting  had  been  formed. 
The  relations  of  the  scene  depicted  to  the  form  of  the  vase,  and 
even  to  the  shape  of  the  space  to  be  occupied,  were  fatally  in- 
terfered with.  And  on  the  other  hand,  the  very  conditions  of 
vase-painting  did  not  allow  it  to  follow  the  rapid  technical  prog- 
ress which  took  place  in  fresco-painting.  The  gap  between  the 


238 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XIV. 


greater  and  the  lesser  form  of  art  constantly  increased,  the 
calling  of  the  vase-painter  became  more  and  more  one  of  routine 
and  mere  manufacture,  and  his  designs  lost  all  the  force  and 
manliness  which  had  marked  them  in  an  earlier  age. 

In  drawing,  indeed,  and  in  the  expression  of  the  faces,  he 
shows  more  skill,  but  he  no  longer  tells  his  story  with  clearness 
and  force.  The  vases  of  Lower  Italy  show  an  exaggeration  of 
the  Polygnotan  scheme,  wherein  the  figures  of  gods  and  men 
are  grouped  in  two  or  three  lines  about  a central  point  or  group, 
without  serious  order  or  method.  The  truth  of  these  assertions 
will  be  enforced  later  on,  when  we  come  to  deal  with  the  render- 
ing of  myths. 


CHAPTER  XV 


vases:  artistic  tradition 

Thus  far  we  have  dealt  with  the  spatial  aspects  of  vase- 
paintings;  we  have  next  to  speak  of  their  schemes  and  their 
relations  to  myth  or  tale,  reserving  to  the  next  chapter  their 
relations  to  Greek  literature.  In  their  attempts,  then,  to 
embody  a myth  in  a drawing,  the  vase-painters  were  subject 
to  certain  tendencies  which  belonged  in  a special  manner  to 
their  craft,  and  which  may  fairly  be  regarded  as  principles  of 
the  grammar  of  vase-painting. 

The  Greek  vase-painter  in  all  periods  works  in  schemes. 
He  does  not  freely  invent  a new  embodiment  for  a tale  or  a 
myth.  He  is  dependent  on  the  manner  in  which  that  tale  had 
been  represented  in  earlier  art.  He  must  satisfy  the  eye  as 
well  as  the  mind.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  though  he  accepts 
and  repeats  a scheme  embodying  artistic  tradition,  he  does  not, 
unless  he  be  a mere  workman  and  no  artist,  accept  the  scheme 
in  a slavish  way.  He  alters  poses  and  details,  omits  figures,  or 
introduces  fresh  ones ; sometimes  he  merely  improves  the 
lines  of  the  composition.  Here,  as  in  every  field  of  Greek 
activity,  we  find  infinite  variety  of  detail  within  limits  cheer- 
fully accepted  by  the  poet  or  artist.  An  exceptional  poet  or 
artist  pushes  back  the  limits;  a conventional  spirit  keeps  far 
within  the  bounds. 

The  Use  of  Fixed  Schemes . — In  tracing  back  any  representa- 
tions of  myths  of  the  gods  or  of  heroic  legends,  we  often  find  the 
kernel  of  them  in  some  simple  scheme,  which  is  usually  of 
great  antiquity,  and  sometimes  indeed  is  borrowed  from  the 

239 


240 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


art  of  other  nations.  Commonly  it  is  a .sort  of  symbol,  which 
expresses  in  the  briefest  and  least  involved  way  the  essence  of 
the  tale.  As  examples  we  may  take  the  labours  of  Heracles, 
each  of  which  is  represented  in  one  or  more  schemes  which 
persist  through  the  history  of  Greek  art.  In  his  contest  with 
the  lion  Heracles  grapples  with  and  strangles  the  beast,  which 
attempts  to  tear  him  with  its  claws ; thus  we  get  a scheme 
like  that  of  wrestling  (Fig.  79). 1 This  scheme  I have  already 
cited  as  an  excellent  example  of  balance  and  space-filling. 


In  seizing  Triton  he  stands  across  the  back  and  knots  his 
hands  round  the  neck;  here  again  we  have  a scheme  derived 
from  wrestling  or  the  pancratium2  (Fig.  80).  Nereus  stands 
by  as  a spectator  or  umpire. 

These  are  simple  groups : the  victory  of  Heracles  needed  not 
to  be  enforced ; he  was  ever  invincible ; and  so  what  most 
needed  portrayal  was  the  contrasted  and  interlaced  form  of 

1 Brit.  Mus.  Cat.  Vases,  Vol.  II.,  p.  13. 

2 Ibid.,  II.,  p.  21. 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


241 


man  and  beast,  a conjunction  which  made  the  centaur  so 
favourite  a subject  with  Hellenic  artists.  In  the  case  of  an- 
other labour,  the  bringing  back  of  the  boar  of  Erymanthus, 
so  simple  a scheme  would  not  suffice : the  reception  by  Eurys- 
theus  and  the  comic  terror  which  made  him  take  refuge  in  a 
great  earthen  cask  into  which  Heracles  throws  the  boar 
needed  special  portrayal ; the  scheme  here  therefore  contains 


at  least  three  figures1  (Fig.  81).  In  our  vase  there  are  five, 
Athena  on  one  side  balancing  Iolaus  on  the  other. 

The  exploits  of  Theseus  also  are  represented  in  a series  of 
schemes ; but  these  are  not  identical  with  the  Heraclean  series, 
for  Theseus  was  a skilful  wrestler  and  warrior,  and  won  his 
victories  not  by  brute  force  but  by  athletic  address  and  use  of 
the  sword.  So  he  does  not  crush  the  Minotaur  with  bare 

1 Brit.  Mus.  Cat.  Vases , Vol.  II.,  p.  15.  There  is  here,  as  often  is  the  case 
when  Heracles  is  introduced,  a touch  of  humour. 


242 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


hands,  but  pulls  him  down  and  then  uses  the  sword  (Fig.  82). 
Otto  Jahn  has  well  observed  that  there  is  a parallelism 
between  the  use  of  fixed  schemes  in  painting  and  the  use  of 
fixed  epithets  in  the  epic.  To  Homer  all  the  Achaeans  have 
flowing  locks,  the  Trojans  are  tamers  of  horses;  the  wine  is 
always  dark,  all  the  women  beautiful,  and  all  the  chiefs  fair- 
haired. Homer  does  not  tire  of  introducing  speeches  with 
the  formula,  “To  him  replying,  the  other  spake,”  or,  so-and-so 
uttered  winged  words,  or  of  finishing  a feast  with  the  formula, 


“When  they  had  put  from  them  the  desire  of  meat  and  drink.” 
And  in  the  Homeric  similes  we  find  the  lion  constantly  appear- 
ing in  slightly  varied  connections  and  actions,  just  as  the 
riders  of  the  Parthenon  frieze  or  the  fighting  groups  of  the 
Mausoleum  are  slightly  varied  one  from  another. 

In  the  more  ordinary  sorts  of  Greek  vases,  and  even  to  some 
degree  in  all  sorts,  the  scheme  plays  a great  part.  There  are 
several  regular  fighting  schemes.  In  the  simplest,  one  warrior 
has  fallen  wounded  on  his  knee,  while  the  victor  advances  on 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


243 


him  to  deal  the  final  blow  (Fig.  94) ; or  two  warriors  meet  in 
even  strife  over  the  body  of  a fallen  comrade.  Friends  and 
supporters  can  be  added  on  either  side,  as  space  may  require. 
It  is  common  to  pair  a Greek  hoplite,  armed  with  spear  and 
shield,  with  a bowman  who  wears  the  dress  of  the  Scythian 
archers  of  Athens,  figures  quite  familiar  to  the  potters.  Some 
of  the  troops  may  be  in  chariots,  some  upon  horseback ; but  in 
the  common  arrangement  it  is  the  hoplites  who  actually  meet 
in  strife.  In  such  groups  it  matters  little  what  names  are 


Fig.  82.  — Vase  in  the  Ashmolean  Museum. 


appended  to  the  fighting  heroes.  Often  the  vase-painter  writes 
beside  them  the  names  of  Homeric  worthies  — Diomedes,  or 
Ajax,  or  Aeneas,  or  Hector.  But  unless  there  is  added  some 
feature  which  betokens  the  intention  to  record  a particular 
combat,  these  names  are  otiose,  and  might  be  indefinitely 
varied.  Then,  there  is  the  scheme  of  the  parting  cup,  a war- 
rior in  armour  receiving  a draught  of  wine  from  the  hands  of 
a lady,  and  such  a group  may  stand  for  the  parting  between 


244 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


any  hero  of  myth  and  his  wife  or  mother.  Another  scheme  is 
that  of  the  leading  away  of  a captive  woman  (Fig.  92) ; in 
which  case  one  warrior  precedes  the  captive,  leading  her  by 
the  hand,  another  follows,  sometimes  looking  back  to  guard 
against  pursuit.  This  scheme  may  be  introduced  where  the 
seduction  of  Helen  by  Paris,  the  leading  away  of  Briseis,  the 
recovery  at  Troy  of  Aethra  by  her  grandsons,  Demophon  and 
Acamas,  or  any  other  such  scene  is  portrayed. 

To  these  simple  groups  the  addition  of  two  or  three  figures, 
distinguished  either  by  inscribed  names  or  by  some  other  mark, 
gives  definite  meaning.  For  example,  Pausanias  in  his  descrip- 
tion of  the  devices  carved  on  the  chest  of  Cypselus  (seventh 
century  b.c.)  writes  of  one  group,  “ Achilles  and  Memnon  are 
fighting ; and  by  them  stand  their  mothers/'  The  mothers, 
indeed,  of  these  two  heroes  were  both  more  than  mortal,  Thetis 
and  Eos,  the  Dawn.  When,  therefore,  we  find  two  female 
figures  flanking  a pair  of  combatants,  we  commonly  suppose 
that  the  latter  are  Achilles  and  Memnon.  And  when  we  find 
in  the  same  flanking  position,  on  either  side  of  a pair  of  com- 
batants, Apollo  and  Athena,  we  are  justified  in  supposing  that 
the  warrior  supported  by  Athena  is  Achilles,  and  his  opponent 
Hector,  beloved  by  Apollo.  It  will  be  remembered  how  Homer, 
when  he  narrates  the  final  and  fateful  combat  of  these  two 
champions,  places  in  the  background  the  rival  partialities  of 
their  divine  patrons. 

The  ordinary  vase-painter  was  contented  to  produce  simple 
schemes;  and  the  names  by  the  introduction  of  which  he  gives 
a meaning  to  his  work  are  often  introduced  somewhat  inappro- 
priately. And  yet,  when  one  comes  to  reflect,  one  sees  that 
the  very  introduction  of  names  is  a testimony  to  the  incurable 
optimism  and  idealism  of  the  Greek  artist.  He  is  like  the 
unspoiled  child  to  whom  a four-roomed  doll-house  is  a palace, 
lie  is  like  Homer,  all  of  whose  women  are  beautiful,  and  al- 
most all  of  whose  men  are  brave.  He  sees  in  the  most  ordi- 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


245 


nary  schemes  of  figures  something  not  quite  common,  some 
hint  at  the  ideal  tales  of  the  old  epic. 

It  will  be  observed  how  closely  all  this  agrees  with  the 
account  of  early  Greek  art  already  given  in  chapter  V.  The 
typical  vase-painting  is  a mental  construction.  The  artist  re- 
produces from  memory  a scheme  familiar  to  him,  with  any 
variations  which  may  suggest  themselves  to  him  at  the  moment. 
He  gives  the  scene  a more  exact  meaning,  either  by  adding 
inscriptions,  or  by  inserting  some  more  definite  details  or  some 
extra  persons.  Place  and  time  he  usually  disregards.  The 
beauty  of  the  design  (for  beauty  is  seldom  wholly  absent)  comes 
from  what  is  Greek  in  it  — the  simplicity  and  directness,  the 
admirable  proportion  and  balance,  the  keen  sense  of  the  charm 
of  the  human  form  in  every  pose  and  every  connection.  The 
ordinary  vases  which  fill  our  museums  were  mostly  made  for 
export  to  Italy  or  Sicily.  If  made  by  any  workmen  except 
Greek,  they  would  be  unworthy  of  careful  attention;  but  art 
belongs  so  preeminently  to  Greece  that  the  meanest  works 
produced  in  that  country  have  importance.  But  artists  of  a 
better  class  also  worked  on  vases,  and  when  we  reach  their 
works  we  mount  at  once  to  a higher  level,  and  it  becomes 
worth  while  to  examine  them  with  care,  that  we  may  trace  in 
them  the  further  working  of  the  Greek  artistic  spirit.  We 
pass  in  them  from  the  mere  scheme  to  a composition  showing 
purpose  and  thought. 

How  the  vase-painter  proceeded  in  embodying  in  art  a story 
or  myth  has  been  well  set  forth  by  Professor  Carl  Robert  in 
his  very  useful  work  Bild  und  Lied.  I cannot  in  all  points 
agree  with  him ; but  he  has  done  excellent  work  in  cutting  a 
path  through  a forest  which  had  before  his  time  only  been 
traversed  by  narrow  tracks. 

There  are  some  myths  which  can  be  represented  in  painting 
by  a very  few  figures ; others  which  require  a far  larger  num- 


246 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ber.  It  is  natural  that  the  choice  of  the  artist  between  the 
two  kinds  should  have  been  largely  determined  by  the  nature 
of  his  field  : in  a square  field  only  a few  figures  could  be  intro- 
duced, in  a long  narrow  space  more  would  be  necessary.  But 
besides  the  external  compulsion  thus  exercised,  an  artist  of 
greater  powers  and  more  inventiveness  would  naturally  take  a 
more  complicated  subject. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  vase-painter  of  the  sixth  century 
and  earlier  that,  just  as  he  objects  to  leaving  any  part  of  his 
vase  without  decoration,  so  he  will  tell  in  his  design  as  much 
of  the  story  as  he  can.  In  doing  this  he  disregards  the  unities 
of  time  and  place  in  the  most  reckless  manner.  He  “sows  not 
with  the  hand,  but  with  the  basket.”  Herein,  indeed,  he  only 
follows  the  course  which  is  most  natural  and  usual  in  the  early 
ages  of  art,  and  which  is  as  conspicuous  in  the  work  of  the 
sculptors  of  Gothic  cathedrals  and  the  illuminations  of  early 
manuscripts  as  it  is  in  primitive  Hellas. 

We  will  give  one  or  two  simple  examples,  which  may  be 
taken  indiscriminately  from  early  vases  or  early  bronze  reliefs, 
since  the  principles  of  arrangement  are  much  the  same  in  both 
kinds  of  ware.  On  a black-figured  plate  at  Athens  there 
is  represented  the  arming  of  Achilles  (Fig.  83). 1 Before  him 
stands  his  mother  Thetis,  while  the  group  is  flanked  on  one 
side  by  his  father  Peleus,  on  the  other  by  his  young  son  Neop- 
tolemus.  The  painter,  by  carefully  adding  the  names,  has 
tried  to  prevent  all  possible  misinterpretation.  The  group  he 
has  put  together  is  not  a possible  one,  since  Achilles’  fighting 
life  was  spent  entirely  in  Asia,  while  Peleus  never  left  Phthia, 
and  Neoptolemus  did  not  go  to  Ilium  until  after  his  father’s 
death.  But  it  expresses  relations;  it  is  a family  group  if  not  a 
historic  one  Similarly,  when  Theseus  slays  the  Minotaur  on 
early  vases,2  some  of  the  Athenian  boys  and  girls  sent  to  be  the 

1 Heydemann,  Griech.  Vasenbilder , PI.  VI.,  4.  t 

2 Baumeister,  Denkmdler,  p.  1790. 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


247 


prey  of  the  monster  are  sometimes  present  to  give  the  occa- 
sion, and  Ariadne  and  Minos  to  give  the  conditions.  Thus 
again  in  early  representations  of  the  transformations  of  Thetis, 


as  she  seeks  to  escape  from  the  grasp  of  her  wooer  Peleus,  we 
see  the  lion,  the  sea -monster,  or  the  serpent,  whose  forms  she 
successively  assumed,  present  beside  the  goddess  in  her  ordi- 
nary human  shape  (Fig.  78). 

It  is  quite  natural  that,  with  the  rise  of  true  Greek  art  to- 
wards the  end  of  the  sixth  century,  and  with  the  introduc- 
tion of  additional  figures  into  the  composition,  we  find  a clearer 
conception  of  unity  in  space  and  time,  as  well  as  a growing 
sense  of  poetic  appropriateness;  the  meaning  becomes  more 
important  than  mere  naive  story-telling,  or  than  the  con- 
trivance of  agreeable  schemes  and  perfect  balance.  Many 
vase-paintings  of  this  more  purposeful  kind  offer  delightful 


248 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


puzzles  in  their  interpretation ; but  interpretation  must  never 
overlook  the  fact  that  the  picture  had  to  be  composed  accord- 
ing to  a somewhat  rigid  scheme,  and  is  regulated  by  the  ideas 
of  ancient  and  not  of  modern  art. 

At  the  same  time  that  the  composition  gains  in  meaning, 
and  the  actors  become  more  numerous,  the  set  schemes  of  which 
I have  spoken  are  modified  and  refined.  At  all  times  in  the 
history  of  Greek  art,  sculptor  and  painter  succeed  in  nothing 
better  than  in  the  slight  variations  on  a given  theme,  by  which 
they  manage,  without  once  breaking  with  tradition,  in  casting 
it  in  ever  fresh  forms  of  beauty.  Abundant  illustrations  of  the 
statements  of  the  last  two  paragraphs  will  be  found  in  sub- 
sequent chapters. 

It  may  perhaps  be  in  part  due  to  the  influence  of  the  drama 
that  certain  schemes  of  arrangement,  though  known  to  early 
art,  become  more  usual  and  prominent  in  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century. 

One  of  these  may  be  called  the  chorus  scheme.  It  consists 
in  introducing,  on  either  side  of  the  essential  figures  of  a scene, 
a number  of  subordinate  figures  of  one  class,  who  sympathize 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


249 


with  the  action  going  on,  and  express  their  sympathy  by  at- 
titude and  motion,  but  do  not  in  fact  take  part  in  the  action. 
They  thus  perform  something  like  the  function  of  the  chorus 
in  a drama,  as  the  chorus  was  understood  before  the  time  of 
Euripides.  For  example,  in  the  paintings  which  depict  the 
seizing  of  Thetis  by  Peleus,  her  sister  nymphs  are  often  pres- 
ent in  numbers,  and  fly  in  panic  terror  to  right  and  left.  I 
give  an  example  from  a beautiful  vase  of  the  middle  of  the 
fifth  century,  bearing  the  name  of  the  potter  Hiero  (Fig.  84) } 
On  the  other  side  of  the  same  vase,  in  which  the  subject  is 
continued,  we  see  an  example  of  what  may  be  termed  the 


messenger  scheme . All  who  are  acquainted  with  the  Attic 
drama  will  remember  that  very  often  the  main  action  of  the 
piece  does  not  take  place  on  the  stage,  but  is  reported  by  a 
messenger  who  has  witnessed  it.  On  vases  the  telling  by  the 
messenger  does  not  occur  in  a detached  way,  for  the  obvious 
reason  that  in  that  case  it  would  be  impossible  to  determine 
what  tale  he  was  telling.  But  when  some  action  is  depicted 
on  the  front  or  obverse  of  a vase,  we  often  find  on  the  reverse 


1 Wiener  Vorlegebl.,  A.  1. 


250 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


an  adaptation  of  the  messenger  idea.  On  the  reverse  of  the 
vase  before  us,  one  of  the  sisters  of  Thetis  is  rushing  to  her 
father  Xereus  and  is  kissing  him  as  a preparation  for  the  not 
very  disastrous  tale  she  has  to  tell. 

As  I have  said,  these  schemes  are  not  peculiar  to  the  fifth 
century.  Nereids  appear  as  a sort  of  a chorus,  even  on  black- 
figured  vases;  and  on  the  celebrated  Florence  vase  (Francois 
Vase)  of  Clitias  and  Ergotimus  there  is  an  instance  of  the 
messenger  scheme,  for  while  Achilles  is  pursuing  Troilus, 
Antenor  bring  news  of  the  ambush  to  Priam,  who  is  seated  at 
the  gate  of  Troy.  But  they  are  comparatively  rare  on  sixth- 
century  vases : towards  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  they 
become  common.  The  messenger  scheme  is  specially  appropri- 
ate on  the  reverse  of  a vase  the  obverse  of  which  gives  us  the 
event  or  action  of  which  news  has  to  be  brought. 

At  about  the  middle  of  the  fifth  century  the  possibilities  of 
vase-representation  are  greatly  enlarged  by  the  introduction  of 
the  modified  perspective  of  which  I have  spoken  as  Polygnotan. 
Henceforward,  though  small  and  ordinary  vases  retain  to  the 
end  the  single-plane  scheme  which  is  usual  in  relief,  larger  and 
more  elaborate  designs  sometimes  offer  to  us  two  or  more  than 
two  series  of  figures,  the  further  figures  appearing  higher  up 
on  the  vase.  It  is  at  once  evident  that  the  new  arrangement 
would  allow  a much  more  complicated  treatment ; the  simple 
archaic  schemes,  flanked  by  a certain  number  of  interested 
spectators,  could  open  and  widen  out  indefinitely,  subject  to  the 
laws  of  space-filling  and  of  balance  enumerated  above.  As  a 
result  we  have  at  once,  as  has  been  already  shown,  some  of  the 
finest  and  most  interesting  of  vase-paintings.  But  towards 
400  b.c.  Athens  ceases  to  be  the  great  manufactory  of  vases,  and 
the  art  is  transferred  to  the  potteries  of  Tarentum  and  Rubi 
and  other  cities  of  Lower  Italy.  The  result  is  that  the  vase- 
paintings,  though  elaborate,  lose  their  freshness  and  point. 
The  field  is  filled  up  with  figures  of  the  circles  of  Aphrodite 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


251 


and  Dionysus.  The  variations,,  so  to  speak,  entirely  overwhelm 
the  original  theme,  and  the  vase  produces  an  impression  of 
degeneration  and  corruption. 

I will  make  the  progress  of  a scene  through  the  history  of 
vase-painting  clearer  by  taking,  as  an  example,  the  sending 
forth  from  Eleusis  of  Triptolemus  by  the  goddess  Demeter 
and  her  daughter  Persephone,  in  a car  drawn  by  winged  serpents, 
on  his  mission  to  introduce  among  men  the  cultivation  of  corn, 
with  all  its  civilizing  results.  My  illustrations  are  taken  from 
the  great  Kunstmythologie  of  Overbeck,  Pis.  XV.-XVI. 

The  central  figure  in  this  series  of  representations  is  Trip- 
tolemus himself  in  his  car,  carrying  wheat  ears.  It  is  curious 
that  in  the  earliest  representations  the  car  is  not  represented  as 
winged,  nor  as  drawn  by  serpents ; and  the  presence  of  Demeter 
and  Persephone  is  by  no  means  invariable.  We  give  the  design 


252 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  a black-figured  amphora,  wherein  the  three  figures  of  Trip- 
tolemus  and  his  patronesses,  who  are  scarcely  differentiated 
from  one  another,  are  given  in  the  simplest  way  (Fig.  85)  d 
Next  we  place  a very  beautiful  drawing  from  a vase  of  the 
potter  Hiero  in  the  British  Museum.  Here  details  are  far  more 
elaborate : snakes  do  not  indeed  draw  the  car,  but  they  are 
attached  to  it,  and  a wing  is  fixed  on  the  axle ; Demeter  stands 
behind  her  favourite  in  a beautiful  dress,  holding  a torch ; 


Persephone  also  carries  a torch  and  pours  for  her  protege  a 
parting  draught  of  wine.  Only  one  fresh  figure  is  added  to 
the  group,  the  nymph  Eleusis,  who  personifies  the  locality  of 
the  scene  (Fig.  86)  .2  The  vase  of  Hiero  dates  from  the  time 
of  the  Persian  wars,  and  offers  us,  as  his  vases  commonly  do, 
rather  elaborate  perfection  of  detail  than  any  novelty  in  the  con- 
ception. The  reverse  of  the  vase  shows  us  a group  of  deities,  — 
Poseidon,  Amphitrite,  Zeus,  and  Dionysus,  and  Eumolpus,  the 
fabled  founder  of  the  Eleusinian  mysteries.  The  next  vase  is 
perhaps  twenty  years  later,  of  the  form  called  a hydria  (Fig. 
87). 3 Here  the  figures  of  the  group  are  more  numerous,  but 

1 Overbeck,  Kunstmythologie , XV.,  6,  2 Ibid.,  22  a.  3 Ibid.,  31. 


Fig.  86. — Vase  of  Hiero. 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


253 


their  connection  with  the  scene  is  less  clear.  We  have  in  the 
midst  as  before  Triptolemus  between  the  two  goddesses.  The 
figure  with  the  torches  behind  Demeter  is  given  in  the  in- 
scription as  Hecate,  and  we  may  suppose  the  balancing  figure 
on  the  other  side,  who  also  carries  two  torches,  to  be  Artemis, 


Fig.  87.  — Hydria. 


though  indeed  she  may  perhaps  be  a mortal  woman.  The 
two  flanking  figures  on  either  side  are  less  easy  to  identify. 
He  on  the  left,  who  holds  the  cornucopiae,  has  been  called 
Hades ; and  Hades  has  some  right  to  be  present  at  the  scene ; 
but  he  would  scarcely  appear  as  an  old  white-headed  man,  see- 
ing how  forceful  was  his  wooing  of  Persephone.  Stephani  has 
therefore  suggested  for  him  the  name  Agathos  Daimon,  a deity 
propitious  to  agriculture.  The  female  figure  at  the  other  end 
of  the  group  who  carries  a basket  seems  to  be  a mere  attendant. 

The  vase-picture  next  figured  belongs  to  the  fourth  century, 
comes  from  Italy,  and  was  probably  painted  by  a Tarentine.1 
Freer,  and  more  original  in  composition  than  earlier  vases, 
liberated  from  the  stiff  processional  scheme,  it  shows  poverty  in 
thought  and  meaning  as  well  as  convention  in  execution  (Fig. 
88)  ? By  an  ingenious  arrangement  the  serpents  are  made 
actually  to  draw  the  car,  in  which  sits  Triptolemus,  receiving 
the  parting  cup  from  his  mistress  Demeter.  Persephone, 
strangely  enough,  is  entirely  absent.  Other  figures  are  grouped 

1 The  aspirate  h in  the  name  of  the  Horae  seems  to  point  to  Tarentum. 

2 Ibid.,  XVI.,  13. 


254 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


round  — Aphrodite  and  her  son  Eros,  Peitho,  a satyr  with  a 
Pan’s  pipe,  two  Horae,  each  bearing  sympathetically  an  ear  of 
corn.  There  is  an  attempts  to  represent  the  landscape  — a 
river  bordered  with  plants  flows  in  the  foreground;  among 
the  plants  is  a cat  carrying  off  a bird.  In  the  background  are 
trees.  The  cat  naturally  suggests  that  the  whole  scene  has 
been  removed  from  Eleusis  to  Egypt,  and  the  inscription 
N El  AOS  appended  to  the  river  makes  this  more  clear.  The 


Fig.  88.  — Vase  of  Tarentum. 


vase,  while  it  cannot  be  considered  a satisfactory  embodiment 
of  the  myth,  shows  an  odd  assortment  of  learning.  The 
painter  knew  the  story  according  to  which  the  mysteries  of 
Eleusis  came  originally  from  the  land  of  the  Nile ; but  he  sees 
no  incongruity  in  placing  the  Greek  Peitho  and  the  Attic  Horae, 
Thallo  and  Carpo,  in  Egypt.  In  other  late  vase-representa- 
tions of  the  same  subject  there  are  even  more  curious  confusions 
and  transpositions. 

I will  next  speak  of  certain  methods  or  habits  of  the  Greek 
vase-painter  which  may  be  abundantly  observed  in  the  vases 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


255 


of  all  periods  — certain  dialectic  peculiarities,  if  I may  so  term 
them,  on  the  analogy  of  language. 

One  of  the  commonest  phenomena  of  vase-painting  is  what 
is  called  contamination , the  influence  exerted  by  one  recognized 
scheme  upon  another,  the  transference  of  persons  or  circum- 
stances from  surroundings  in  which  they  have  a meaning  to  a 
connection  in  which  they  are  out  of  place.  That  this  should 
commonly  take  place  is  the  surest  of  proofs  that  the  painters 
of  vases  thought  in  schemes  and  figures  as  well  as  in  event  or 
myth.  Contamination,  as  is  natural,  is  far  more  prominent  in 
vases  which  are  mere  handiwork  than  in  such  as  have  real 
meaning,  and  were  executed  with  thought.  Also  in  schemes 
made  up  of  closely  similar  elements,  for  example,  Hermes  lead- 
ing three  nymphs  and  Hermes  leading  the  goddesses  to  the 
judgment  of  Paris,  it  is  very  natural  that  these  two  should 
be,  as  often  happens,  somewhat  mixed  up.1  But  contamination 
occurs  under  a variety  of  other  circumstances.  Though  it  may 
be  most  readily  traced  in  vase-paintings,  it  is  also  prevalent  in 
other  parts  of  the  Greek  fancy  world.  Myths  also  are  con- 
stantly contaminated,  one  borrowing  event  and  circumstance 
from  another.  Religious  usages  are  also  very  liable  to  con- 
tamination. It  will  be  well  to  give  a few  examples  of  vase 
contamination. 

I have  already  observed  that  when  two  heroes  are  represented 
as  contending  in  arms,  and  the  two  mothers  standing  on  either 
side  behind  them,  we  usually  regard  the  scene  as  the  battle 
between  Achilles  and  Memnon,  in  the  presence  of  their  mothers, 
Thetis  and  Eos.  On  a fine  vase,  probably  painted  by  Euphro- 
nius  (Fig.  89)  ,2  we  find  a beautiful  scene,  where  the  body  of  a 
dead  hero  is  carried  to  its  burial  by  two  winged  figures,  a black- 
haired daemon,  who  is  doubtless  Death,  and  a red-haired  com- 


1 The  judgment  of  Paris  is  reserved  for  more  detailed  treatment  in  chapter 
XVIII. 

2 Klein,  Euphronios , p.  272. 


256 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


panion,  who  is  Sleep.  One  thinks  at  once  of  the  Homeric  lines 
in  which  it  is  stated  that  Sleep  and  Death  bore  off  the  dead 
body  of  Sarpedon  to  his  native  Lycia ; and  it  is  probable  that 
the  vase-painter  was  thinking  of  Sarpedon  when  he  worked. 
But  the  space  was  not  filled,  though  the  group  was  complete ; 


Fig.  89.  — Vase  of  Euphronius. 


and  he  adds  on  each  side  a female  figure,  thinking  probably  of 
some  painting  in  which  Thetis  and  Eos  stood  by  their  two 
sons.  One  of  these  women  is  turned  by  the  herald’s  staff 
which  she  carries  into  Iris,  the  messenger  of  the  gods,  who  can 
scarcely  be  out  of  place.  But  the  other  figure  is  obscure. 
Sarpedon  had  not  a noted  mother. 

Another  good  example  of  contamination  is  cited  by  Pro- 
fessor Robert,  from  a black-figured  vase  1 where  is  depicted  a 
warrior  hurling  from  him  a boy  whom  he  has  seized  by  the  leg. 
It  should  be  Neoptolemus  flinging  Astyanax  from  the  towers 
of  Ilium ; but  the  presence  of  a temple,  a tripod,  and  a chariot 
make  it  likely  that  the  event  in  the  vase-painter’s  mind  was 
the  slaying  of  Troilus  by  Achilles  at  the  altar  of  Apollo.  It  is 
hard  to  be  sure  which  death  is  really  intended ; but  in  either 
case  circumstances  usual  in  the  rendering  of  the  one  event  are 
transferred  to  the  other. 

1 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  I.,  34  ; Bild  und  Lied , p.  112. 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


257 


Another  example  may  be  found  in  a kylix  on  which  is  repre- 
sented Oedipus  seated  before  a sphinx,  who  is  perched  on  the 
top  of  a pillar.  That  it  was  the  tale  of  Oedipus  which  was  in 


the  mind  of  the  vase-painter  is  proved  by  the  inscriptions  (Fig. 
90) } But,  apart  from  them,  we  might  almost  have  seen  in  the 
picture  an  ordinary  gravestone  surmounted  by  the  figure  of  a 
sphinx,  with  a relative  of  the  dead  seated  near.  The  sphinx, 

1 Hartwig,  Meisterschalen,  PI.  73.  On  the  vase  is  the  curious  form  Oidnr65ris : 
the  letters  K]AITRI[PON  allude  to  the  riddle  which  the  sphinx  asked 
of  Oedipus,  “What  creature  goes  on  four  legs  in  the  morning,  on  two  during 
the  day,  and  on  three  at  evening?”  The  answer  was,  man,  the  third  leg  of 
evening  being  the  staff  of  old  age. 


258 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


an  adornment  of  the  tomb,  must  have  been  familiar  to  the  vase- 
painter.  This  illustrates  the  fact  that  the  contamination  in 
vase-painting  is  not  usually  between  two  myths,  but  between 
two  figure  schemes  which  mingled  in  the  mind  of  the  artist. 
He  was  not  hesitating  which  of  two  tales  to  portray,  but, 
thinking  in  concrete  figures,  thought  indistinctly. 

Locality . — I have  already,  in  speaking  of  the  works  of  Poly- 
gnotus,  shown  how  fond  the  great  art  of  Greece  is  of  telling 
a story  or  defining  a personality  by  means  of  allusion.  In  cer- 
tain classes  of  vase-paintings  the  custom  is  common,  as  has 
indeed  already  been  shown. 

It  would  not  be  easy  to  find  better  instances  of  this  way  of 
expression  than  are  furnished  by  indications  of  locality  in  vase- 
paintings.  These  are  of  two  kinds.  Sometimes  one  marked 
feature  of  a place  is  depicted  in  order  to  signify  the  whole, 
sometimes  the  place  is  represented  by  a personification. 

(1)  A marked  feature. — Thus  a pillar  often  stands  for  a 
temple  or  a palace,  a tripod  or  altar  represents  a sacred  place,  a 
crab  or  a shell-fish  the  sea-shore.  A single  tree,  as  on  the  Or- 
vieto  vase  (Fig.  51),  stands  sometimes  for  a forest.  Here  we 
have  a Polygnotan  parallel : in  the  painting  at  Delphi  which 
represented  Hades,  a single  willow  seems  to  have  stood  for  the 
grove  of  poplars  and  willows  which  Homer  ascribes  to  Perse- 
phone. A closet  in  the  background  sometimes  shows  that  the 
scene  is  the  apartments  of  the  women ; tablets  or  drawing 
materials  hung  up  against  the  wall  show  a school,  and  so  forth. 
For  examples,  see  Figs.  92,  93. 

(2)  A personification.  — This  is  the  most  thoroughly  Hellenic 
way  of  representing  a place.  It  was  entirely  in  accord  with  the 
genius  of  the  nation  to  embody  not  merely  the  great  powers  of 
nature  and  the  aspects  of  life  in  mythologic  personalities,  but 
also  thus  to  signify  the  features  of  a landscape.  A vase  has 
been  above  (Fig.  86)  represented,  wherein  Eleusis  the  place  is 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


259 


represented  by  Eleusis  the  nymph.  In  similar  fashion  the  rivers 
Alpheius  and  Cladeus  appear  in  one  of  the  pediments  of  the 
temple  of  Zeus  at  Olympia  as  reclining  men  (Fig.  24).  And  in 
Roman  and  Pompeian  paintings,  at  a later  time,  stream  and 
rock,  mountain  and  meadow,  are  all  represented  by  groups  of 
male  and  female  daemons  and  nymphs. 

In  a similar  way,  in  some  of  the  compositions  of  Pheidias, 
the  rising  sun  and  the  setting  moon,  embodied  in  the  chariots 
of  Helios  and  Selene  or  Nyx,  give  the  time,  the  moment  when 
dawn  breaks  on  the  earth  and  darkness  flies.  One  finds  this 
scheme  copied  on  a few  vases.1  Sunrise  could  not  be  more 
delightfully  represented  by  human  figures  than  it  is  in  the 
Blacas  vase  of  the  British  Museum,  on  which  Helios  appears 
rising  out  of  the  sea,  and  the  stars,  represented  as  nude  boys, 
are  plunging  into  the  clouds  beneath  them,  while  Eos,  the 
Dawn,  as  a winged  goddess,  pursues  the  hunter  Cephalus,  and 
the  moon  goddess  on  her  horse  sinks  behind  the  hills  (Fig.  91). 2 
The  figure  running  on  the  hills  behind  Eos  is  probably  a moun- 
tain god,  and  signifies  place,  as  the  other  figures  signify  time. 

There  is  a method  of  representing  a tale  which  belongs  to  all 
early  and  primitive  art,  and  which  is  occasionally  found  in 
Greek  vase-paintings,  though,  in  fact,  it  is  anything  but 
characteristic  of  them  — the  method  of  continuous  narration .3 


1 E.g.,  the  vase  from  Ruvo,  Mon.  d.  Inst.,  IX.,  6. 

2 Figured  in  Roscher’s  Lexikon,  I.,  p.  2010,  Baumeister,  I.,  p.  640,  and  else- 
where. Brit.  Mus.  Catalogue , III.,  p.  284.  None  of  the  representations  is 
trustworthy,  as  the  vase  was  retouched.  It  has  now  been  cleaned. 

3 Professor  Wickhoff,  in  a work  which  has  been  translated  into  English,  on 
Roman  Art,  represents  this  method  as  characteristic  of  Roman  art,  adopted 
from  it  by  early  Christian  art,  and  so  perpetuated  through  the  Middle  Ages. 
It  does,  no  doubt,  belong  in  a marked  degree  to  early  Christian  art,  but  it  is 
there  a revival  of  a primitive  manner,  which  the  empire  of  Greek  art  had  almost 
civilized  off  the  face  of  the  earth.  Few  better  examples  of  the  method  could  be 
found  than  the  sixth-century  Phoenician, cup  from  Palestrina  {Mon.  d.  Inst.,  X., 
31),  the  subject  of  which  has  been  cleverly  shown,  by  M.  Clermont  Ganneau, 
to  be  the  successive  events  of  a day’s  hunting. 


XV 


VASES:  ARTISTIC  TRADITION 


261 


In  the  representations  in  which  this  method,  or  want  of  method, 
prevails,  we  find  successive  scenes  placed  side  by  side  without 
division,  and  the  hero  depicted  again  and  again  once  in  each. 
Thus  in  the  undivided  scroll  which  runs  round  the  pillar  of 
Trajan,  that  Emperor  is  represented  more  than  ninety  times  in 
various  connections  and  surroundings. 

It  is  a mark  of  the  strong  sense  of  style  which  pervades  Greek 
art  from  the  first  that  this  method  is  soon  superseded.  A few 
vases  may  be  found  which  exemplify  it ; but  to  lay  stress  upon 
them  would  be  to  call  attention  to  the  exception  at  the  expense 
of  the  rule.  A good  example  of  the  nearest  approach  to  the 
style  of  continuous  narration  which  is  to  be  found  in  Greek  art 
is  the  British  Museum  vase  which  represents  the  adventures 
of  Theseus,1  on  which  Theseus  is  depicted  again  and  again, 
occupied  in  his  varied  exploits.  Another  vase  which  perhaps 
goes  a little  further  in  this  direction  is  a beautiful  toilet-vase  from 
Eretria,  in  the  design  of  which  a bride  is  twice  depicted,  on  the 
left  as  seated  in  company  with  Eros,  and  on  the  right  as  led  by 
her  husband  to  her  new  abode.2  We  have  also  on  a vase  (Fig. 
96),  cited  below,  which  represents  the  slaying  of  the  Thracians 
at  Troy  by  Odysseus  and  Diomedes,  two  figures  of  the  latter 
hero,  one  slaying  and  one  escaping.  And  Odysseus  appears 
twice  over  on  the  vase  Fig.  97. 

The  mention  of  the  toilet-vase  reminds  us  that  we  have 
treated  almost  exclusively  of  vases  the  subject  of  which  is 
mythologic.  There  is,  however,  a large  class  of  vases,  espe- 
cially of  the  red-figured  styles,  of  which  the  subjects  are  not 
taken  from  the  national  repertory  of  tales,  but  from  the  events 
of  daily  life.  Athletes  practising  their  exercises,  bathers,  men 
engaged  in  sacrifice  or  in  feasting,  women  in  their  homes, 
children  at  play,  marriages,  funerals,  offerings  to  the  dead,  are 
all  ordinary  subjects  of  vase-painting.  Very  often,  indeed,  it 

1 Journ.  Hell.  Stud.,  Atlas,  Pl.  X.  2 Jahrbuch  des  arch.  Inst.,  1900,  Pl.  2. 


262  PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART  chap,  xv 

is  impossible  to  say  whether  a vase-painting  was  meant  to 
represent  the  battles,  the  sacrifices,  or  the  feasts  of  heroes  of 
mythology  or  of  persons  of  everyday  life.  This  last  observation 
may  perhaps  reassure  us,  since  it  shows  that  the  principles  of 
vase-painting  are  the  same  whether  mythical  scenes  or  scenes 
of  every  day  be  depicted.  Of  course  in  the  latter  case  there  is 
more  freedom,  not  unfrequently  even  humour;  but  the  Greek 
love  of  scheme  and  type  prevails  even  in  the  representation 
of  genre  scenes. 


CHAPTER  XVI 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 

The  relations  of  poetry  to  art  offer  a subject  of  great  in- 
terest to  the  student  of  the  classics.  The  subject  was  brought 
fully  before  the  learned  world  by  Lessing  in  his  Laocoon. 
The  Laocoon  has  become  a classic  both  in  Germany  and  in 
England ; and  it  still  keeps  the  interest  which  always  attaches 
to  the  first  thorough  study  of  an  important  subject  by  a great 
man.  But  Lessing’s  knowledge  of  Greek  art  was  closely  lim- 
ited. The  history  of  ancient  sculpture  had  in  his  time  barely 
been  sketched,  and  Greek  painting  was  practically  unknown. 
One  cannot,  therefore,  be  surprised  to  find  that  many  of  his 
dicta  no  longer  hold.  His  theories  have  the  same  relation  to 
modern  archaeology  which  the  theories  of  Adam  Smith  have 
to  modern  economics. 

Our  present  subject  is  especially  the  relations  which  may  be 
observed  between  vase-painting  and  literature.  This  is  a mat- 
ter concerning  all  whose  education  is  on  classical  lines.1 

We  must  begin  by  endeavouring  to  put  out  of  our  minds  the 
modern  relations  between  poem  or  tale  and  the  representations 

1 The  most  important  general  work  on  this  subject  is  still  Robert’s  Bild 
und  Lied;  some  of  the  papers  of  Jahn  and  Brunn  are  full  of  suggestion.  Mr. 
Huddilston’s  Attitude  of  the  Greek  Tragedians  towards  Art  may  also  be  consulted. 
In  late  years  it  has  occurred  to  several  publishers  to  issue  editions  of  the  Greek 
and  Roman  writers  with  illustrations,  largely  taken  from  ancient  vase-paintings. 
I am  sorry  to  say  that  this  has  seldom  been  done  by  adequate  authorities  or  in 
a satisfactory  fashion.  Hill’s  Illustrations  of  School  Classics  is  a good  exception. 
Engelmann’s  Bilderatlas  zur  Ilias  and  zur  Odyssee  (English  edition  by  Anderson) 
is  also  a work  of  a competent  authority.  Most  of  the  vases  which  bear  on 
literature  are  figured  in  Baumeister’s  Denkmdler. 

263 


264 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


of  the  events  there  narrated  in  painting  and  sculpture.  We 
moderns  are  a reading  race,  and  form  our  minds  on  books; 
whence  it  has  come  about  that  the  written  tale  or  legend  has 
complete  domination  over  the  pictured  tale  or  legend.  We  are 
also  thoroughly  used  to  illustrated  editions,  in  which  the  artist 
does  all  he  can  to  make  real  and  vivid  the  tale  of  the  novelist 
or  poet.  This  artist  reads  the  text  with  care;  he  tries  to 
imbibe  its  atmosphere ; he  studies  the  dress  and  surroundings 
of  the  period  of  the  tale.  He  puts  his  art  at  the  disposal  of 
the  writer;  and  if  there  be  any  discrepancy  between  the  pic- 
tured and  the  written  version,  it  is  always  the  artist  who  is 
blamed.  If  the  poet  alter  for  his  own  purposes  the  tale  as 
handed  down  by  tradition,  the  artist  must  follow  the  poet 
in  all  his  innovations.  When  the  reader  can  say  that  the  situa- 
tion in  the  poem  is  perfectly  rendered  in  the  picture,  the  artist 
is  so  far  justified.  And  having  acquired  this  habit  of  mind 
from  the  use  of  illustrated  books,  we  carry  it  even  into  our 
criticisms  of  more  independent  works  of  painting,  when  exhib- 
ited in  our  galleries.  In  that  case,  of  course,  the  artist  is  much 
freer  in  his  rendering ; he  is  not  bound  to  follow  any  one  ac- 
count, unless,  of  course,  the  whole  tale  be  the  invention  of  a 
poet.  But  it  would  always  be  regarded  as  a bold  and  doubt- 
ful proceeding,  if  an  artist  depicted  a scene  from  some  history 
or  tale  in  a manner  for  which  there  was  no  written  authority; 
he  might  be  regarded  as  trying  to  combine  the  incompatible 
duties  of  the  historian  and  the  artist.  I am  speaking,  it  will 
be  observed,  of  what  may  be  called  narrative  paintings;  of 
course  when  a painting  merely  depicts  a situation  and  explains 
itself,  the  case  is  different. 

In  these  matters  the  Greeks  thought  and  felt  very  differently. 
It  would  be  absurd  to  speak  of  the  Greek  artist  as  freer  than 
the  modern,  since  his  limits  were  narrower,  and  he  was  bound 
by  a thousand  conventions  which  have  now  lost  their  power. 
But  at  least  his  public  was  not  in  the  habit  of  reading,  or  of 


XVI 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


265 


bringing  his  sculpture  or  painting  into  close  relations  with  the 
works  of  poet  or  mythographer. 

Before  we  search  out  how  the  vase-painter  did  treat  the 
myths  and  tales  wherewith  he  adorned  his  vases,  it  may  be 
well  briefly  to  consider  the  psychological  aspect  of  the  matter, 
to  set  forth  the  conditions  which  would  naturally  govern  his 
hand  and  brain  in  his  work.  Vases  were  made  to  sell,  and 
therefore  the  demand  of  the  customers  would  naturally  guide 
the  hand  of  the  designer.  But  on  the  other  hand,  the  demand 
was  not  the  result  of  an  incalculable  caprice,  nor  of  a constantly 
changing  fashion : the  Greek  mind  moved  slowly  on  the  lines 
of  order  and  law,  in  an  evolution  of  which  the  course  can  be 
traced  with  certainty.  Artist  and  customer  were  swept  along 
in  the  same  steady  stream  of  influence. 

This  accounts  for  an  observation  made  by  Dr.  Klein1  and 
others  that  the  paintings  on  Greek  vases,  especially  the  fashion- 
able kylix,  more  readily  take  their  subjects,  than  the  mode  in 
which  those  subjects  are  treated,  from  prevalent  currents  in 
mythology.  The  mode  of  treatment  was  largely  fixed  by  tradi- 
tion ; but  the  subject  was  open  to  freer  choice,  and  in  this  latter 
respect  demand  might  have  effect.  For  example,  the  exploits 
of  Theseus  seem  to  have  been  a favourite  subject  at  Athens 
soon  after  the  Persian  wars,  at  the  time  when  Cimon  was  bring- 
ing to  Athens  the  bones  of  the  national  hero  from  the  island 
of  Scyros;  but  those  exploits  are  much  schematized  in  the 
manner  which  we  have  already  studied. 

Looking  at  Greek  religion  and  myth  from  one  point  of  view, 
it  seems  to  resolve  itself  into  “ Cults  of  the  Greek  States.”  In 
every  city  there  were  temples  of  the  gods,  in  which  each  of  the 
deities  who  received  worship  received  it  in  some  special  form 
or  aspect  — Apollo  as  sun-god,  or  healer,  or  prophet,  Artemis  as 
deity  of  childbirth,  or  as  moon-goddess,  or  as  huntress,  and  so 

1 Euphronios,  p.  163. 


2G6 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


on.  And  with  these  functions  of  the  deities  went  myths  appro- 
priate to  those  functions,  myths  as  fleeting  and  varied  as  the 
shapes  of  the  clouds.  But  nevertheless  in  the  higher  poetry  of 
Greece,  and  in  the  art  everywhere,  there  was  prevalent  a sort 
of  national  Hellenic  mythology,  which  gives  unity  to  the 
works  of  writers  and  artists  of  different  cities  and  varied  schools, 
and  which  produced  national  Hellenic  types  in  sculpture  and 
in  poetry,  so  that  after  all  it  is  possible  to  speak  of  Greek 
religion  and  Greek  art,  and  not  only  of  the  religion  or  art  of 
Argos,  or  Athens,  or  Rhodes.  To  the  learned  scholar  the  local 
divergencies  will  always  be  prominent,  but  by  the  ordinary 
cultivated  man  that  wherein  Greece  differed  from  Italy  and 
from  Asia  will  always  be  seen  to  be  more  important  and  more 
profound  than  that  wherein  one  Greek  city  differed  from 
another.  Probably  a cultivated  Greek  might  have  taken  the 
same  view.  And  whatever  may  have  been  the  case  with  other 
cities,  Athens  certainly  closely  adhered  to  the  Pan-Hellenic 
way  of  thought  and  poetry  and  art. 

“ Every  Greek  who  was  born  above  the  ranks  of  the  sordidly 
poor  went  to  school  during  boyhood;  and  at  every  Greek 
school  the  Homeric  and  Hesiodic  poems  were  made  the  text- 
books of  education.  With  them  were  associated  the  poems 
of  the  later  lyrical  poets,  such  as  Pindar  and  Simonides,  and  of 
the  gnomic  writers ; but  Homer  and  Hesiod  always  remained 
the  chief  source  whence  came  the  Greek  ideas  as  to  the  hier- 
archy and  the  functions  of  the  gods.  And  the  training  thus 
imparted  in  youth  was  confirmed  and  consolidated,  day  by  day, 
by  the  power  of  the  second  education  which  every  Greek  went 
through,  education  of  the  mind  through  the  eyes,  by  observa- 
tion of  the  innumerable  works  of  art  which  filled  all  Hellenic 
cities.  In  art  the  poetic  view  of  the  gods,  started  by  Homer 
and  Hesiod,  and  carried  on  by  Pindar  and  Simonides  and  the 
other  great  poets  of  early  Greece,  was  in  the  main  adopted  and 
carried  out.  What  wonder,  then,  if  the  Greeks  held  fast  those 


XVI 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


267 


notions  as  to  the  gods  which  were  instilled  into  their  minds  in 
childhood,  and  which  were  enforced  every  day  by  the  testimony 
of  poetry  and  art  ? ” 1 

While,  however,  Homer  and  the  Epic,  together  with  the 
classic  art  mainly  founded  on  them,  fixed  for  all  time  the  chief 
features  of  the  poetic  mythology  of  Greece,  changes  necessarily 
took  place,  changes  which  certainly  became  more  rapid  and 
more  marked  as  the  Greek  world  turned  its  course  and  moved 
in  the  direction  of  dissolution.  The  rationalizing  spirit,  which 
we  find  not  only  in  the  writings  of  philosophers  like  Plato,  but 
also  in  the  poems  of  Stesichorus,  and  in  a marked  degree  in 
the  dramas  of  Euripides,  tended  to  make  certain  versions  of 
current  myths  more  suitable  for  popular  acceptance  than  other 
versions.  We  may  expect  to  find,  in  the  fourth  and  even  some- 
times in  the  fifth  century,  traces  in  art  of  the  influence  of 
changing  scientific  theories,  changing  religious  views,  changing 
canons  of  literary  taste;  but  these  traces  are  not  prominent 
until  the  third  century,  with  which  in  this  work  we  have 
little  to  do. 

I have  spoken  of  mythology  and  of  the  types  of  the  gods; 
but  no  rigid  line  can  be  drawn  between  the  gods  and  the  heroes 
of  legendary  Greece,  who  were  another  principal  subject  de- 
picted in  Greek  art.  There  was  no  impassable  gulf  between 
deity  and  hero.  Callisto,  the  bear-goddess  of  Arcadia,  became 
later  one  of  the  nymphs  attendant  on  Artemis;  Asklepios,  on 
the  other  hand,  after  being  regarded  as  a hero,  became  in  later 
Greece  one  of  the  chief  deities  of  Hellas ; Achilles  was  in  some 
places  worshipped  as  a hero,  in  some  as  a deity,  and  so  forth. 
Thus  it  is  not  surprising  that  what  I have  said  in  regard  to  the 
mythology  of  the  gods  applies  also  to  the  legends  of  the  heroes. 
These  also  varied  from  place  to  place,  and  existed  in  rival 
forms.  But  these,  also,  were  fixed  within  limits  for  all  educated 
men  by  the  great  epics  of  the  heroic  cycle. 

1 Gardner  and  Jevons,  Manual  of  Greek  Antiquities , p.  102. 


268 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


These  observations  prepare  us  for  the  discussion  of  the  ques- 
tion how  far  we  can  trace  in  vase-paintings  the  influence  of  the 
various  kinds  of  poetry,  of  the  epic,  the  lyric,  and  the  dramatic 
masterpieces  of  early  Greece.  This  influence  might  be  exerted 
in  any  of  three  ways.  First,  the  choice  of  subject  might  be 
made  under  the  influence  of  poetry.  Second,  the  particular 
form  of  the  tale  accepted  might  be  due  to  such  influence. 
Third,  there  might  be  a general  epic,  lyric,  or  dramatic  tone  in 
the  vase-painting,  showing  itself  in  the  details  or  the  manner  of 
representation. 

I propose  to  consider  how  far  any  of  these  kinds  of  connec- 
tion or  influence  can  be  traced  between  vase-paintings  and  the 
poems  of  the  epic,  lyric,  or  dramatic  class.  In  the  present 
chapter  I will  confine  myself  to  the  epic,  and  reserve  the  other 
kinds  of  poetry  for  a separate  chapter.  First,  then,  of  Epic 
Poetry. 

(1)  Subjects.  — We  can  scarcely  doubt  that  influence  of  the 
first  kind  mentioned  would  be  exerted  by  the  Epic.  The  popu- 
larity of  any  myth,  whether  produced  by  current  poetical  treat- 
ment of  it  or  by  any  other  cause,  would  naturally  put  it  into 
the  heads  of  vase-painters.  As  regards  subject,  the  literature 
which  has  the  closest  bearing  on  vase-paintings  is  the  Epic.1 
The  subjects  portrayed  in  them  are  very  frequently  taken 
from  the  epic  cycle.  The  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  however,  com- 
paratively seldom  furnish  their  subjects,  which  are  more 
commonly  taken  from  the  works  of  the  lesser  poems  of  the 
cycle,  the  Iliupersis  of  Arctinus,  the  Cypria,  the  Aethiopis,  and 
the  rest.  At  first  sight  this  may  seem  a strange  fact,  since 
the  works  of  Lesches  Stasinus  and  Arctinus  were  not  in  schools 
made  so  much  of  as  the  Iliad  and  the  Odyssey.  The  reason  is 
that  certain  stock  subjects  from  the  outer  epic,  such  subjects 
as  the  choice  of  Paris  and  the  wooing  of  Thetis,  seem  to  have 


1 Lists  of  vases  bearing  subjects  from  the  Epic  will  be  found  in  Luckenbach, 
Das  Verhaltniss  der  griechischen  Vasenbilder  zu  den  Gedichten  des  epischen  Kyklos. 


XVI 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


269 


made  their  way  into  art  very  early,  and  are  repeated  almost 
too  often  by  the  potters. 

(2)  Variation  of  Story.  — It  has  been  observed  that  when 
we  find  a vase  which  has  really  cost  its  painter  some  thought, 
and  does  not  run  in  the  lines  of  ordinary  tradition,  then  its 
subject  is  often  from  the  great  Homeric  poems.  So  it  would 
seem  that  when  a vase-painter  consciously  invented,  the  Iliad 
and  Odyssey  would  often  occur  to  him.  These  vases,  it  is  true, 
often  sit  very  loose  to  the  Homeric  text ; it  is  only  in  a small 
minority  of  cases  that  the  correspondence  is  close.  Some 
modern  archaeologists  have  exercised  great  pains  and  shown 
great  erudition  in  the  discussion  whether  the  divergences 
from  Homer  are  due  to  a variant  text  or  to  a later  epic  author- 
ity. Questions  of  this  kind  will  come  before  us  presently 
(chapter  XVII).  But  I may  say  at  once  that  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases,  or  in  nearly  all,  we  can  account  for  the 
variation  from  the  usual  literary  tradition  in  a simpler  fashion, 
and  one  doing  more  justice  to  Hellenic  ways.  We  must  ever 
be  on  our  guard  against  supposing  that  the  Greeks  were  a 
reading  people,  or  were  dependent,  as  we  are  dependent,  upon 
the  works  of  poets  and  historians.  Artistic  tradition  with  the 
vase-painters  counted  for  more  than  literary  tradition.  How 
this  artistic  tradition  worked  we  have  already  seen. 

(3)  Special  Treatment.  — Professor  Robert,  carrying  out  a 
suggestion  of  Jahn,  has  affirmed1  that  we  may  see  on  the  vases, 
especially  those  of  the  archaic  period,  a tone  or  manner  of  treat- 
ment which  may  fairly  be  called  epic.  “In  all  these  prod- 
ucts of  archaic  workmen  we  may  see  a bright  and  simple- 
hearted  delight  in  portraying  and  in  what  is  portrayed,  a delight 
that  what  before  had  only  passed  in  song  from  mouth  to  mouth 
should  stand  bodily  before  our  eyes  in  a representation.” 
“The  tone  which  prevails  in  this  archaic  period  is  the  same 
that  predominates  in  the  Epic,  the  tone  of  narration  full  of 


1 Bild  und  Lied,  p.  13. 


270 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ease.  It  relates  and  gossips  like  old  Nestor  in  Homer,  and 
can  never  weary  of  relation  and  gossip,  flowing  over  into  detail. 
This  period  of  art  indeed  wants  to  tell  the  whole  story  and  does 
not  heed  that  it  cannot,  like  poetry,  treat  of  the  wdiole  history 
of  the  matter,  but  only  of  a phase. ” Instances  already  given 
(such  as  Fig.  83)  quite  bear  out  the  observations  of  Robert. 


These  views  will  become  clearer  if  we  take  a few  character- 
istic vases  of  good  period,  the  subject  of  wdiich  is  clearly  Ho- 


meric. On  a kotyle  of  Hiero  (about  480  b.c.)  wTe  have  two 
scenes  from  the  Iliad  which  have  a close  connection  one  with. 
the  other  — the  leading  aw^ay  of  Briseis  from  the  tent  of  Achil- 
les to  that  of  Agamemnon,  and  the  embassy  of  Odysseus  and 


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271 


Ajax  to  implore  the  aid  of  Achilles,  when  the  Trojans  had 
fought  their  way  to  the  ships  (Fig.  92). 1 

We  must  first  glance  at  these  vase-pictures  from  the  point 
of  view  of  space  and  balance.  The  two  scenes,  each  of  four 
figures,  occurring  on  the  two  sides  of  the  vase,  balance  one 
another,  and  conform  admirably  to  the  form  of  the  vase.  In 
each  we  have  complete  balance  about  the  middle,  and  corre- 
spondence of  figure  to  figure.  As  an  example  of  careful  adap- 
tation to  space,  we  may  take  the  way  in  which  the  figure  of 
Odysseus,  as  he  bends  forward  in  his  oratory,  together  with 
the  sword  hung  on  the  wall,  fits  the  form  of  the  seated  Achilles, 
and  the  fashion  in  which  the  seat  in  front  of  Agamemnon  fills 
the  space  under  the  handle. 

Taking  next  the  scenes  one  by  one,  we  may  analyze  them 
and  compare  them  with  the  Homeric  text.  The  embassy  to 
Achilles  is  closely  parallel  to  the  Iliad . In  Book  IX.  it  is 
narrated  how  Agamemnon,  repenting  that  he  had  vexed  Achilles 
by  carrying  away  Briseis,  sent  an  embassy  to  make  reparation, 
consisting  of  Odysseus,  Ajax,  and  the  aged  Phoenix.  When 
they  reach  the  tent  of  Achilles,  they  find  him  singing  to  the 
lyre  in  the  company  of  Patroclus.  He  receives  them  graciously, 
and  Odysseus  tries  to  persuade  him  to  resume  his  place  in  the 
battle,  but  without  success.  The  lyre-playing  Achilles  is  not 
rare  in  ancient  art;  but  on  our  vase  Achilles  sits  sulking  and 
wrapped  in  his  mantle.  In  all  other  points  the  vase-painting 
is  in  a broad  sense  Homeric.  The  heroes  are  carefully  dif- 
ferentiated. Achilles  is  of  gigantic  stature,  his  head  when 
seated  being  almost  on  a level  with  those  of  the  others  when 
standing : this  size  refers  rather  to  heroic  rank  than  to  mere 
physical  stature.  He  is  still  young;  in  all  ways  he  presents  a 
marked  contrast  to  Odysseus,  whose  close  clustering  hair  and 
beard  are  those  of  the  typical  strong  man.  The  hat  at  the 
back  of  the  head  of  Odysseus  and  his  boots  indicate  the  world- 

1 Mon.  d.  Inst.  VI.,  19. 


272 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


wide  traveller,  though  here  we  have  allusion  rather  to  the 
future  destiny  than  to  the  past  history  of  the  hero.  Phoenix 
as  an  old  man  with  thin  hair,  stands  wrapped  in  his  cloak  and 
leaning  on  a staff.  Ajax  is  far  less  successfully  characterized : 
he  seems  drawn  by  the  analogy  of  Phoenix,  whom  he  balances, 
into  an  elderly  man ; but  hair  and  beard  are  of  heroic  fulness. 

The  other  picture  is  according  to  the  spirit  and  not  accord- 
ing to  the  letter.  Agamemnon  (II.  I.)  sent  to  fetch  Briseis  his 
two  heralds  Talthvbius  and  Eurybates.  Achilles  yielded  her 
without  resistance,  and  they  brought  her  unwilling  to  the  tent 
of  their  master.  Four  figures  were  needed  for  the  composition, 
and  most  indispensable  among  these  would  be  the  figure  of 
Briseis  herself.  According  to  the  ordinary  scheme  a lady  led 
into  captivity  is  accompanied  by  two  men,  one  to  lead  her,  the 
other  to  look  back  and  repel  pursuit.  It  might  seem  most 
natural  to  complete  the  scene  with  the  two  heralds,  and  Aga- 
memnon waiting  to  receive  the  captive.  But  the  vase-painter 
prefers  to  represent  Agamemnon  himself  as  leading  Briseis, 
while  Talthybius  follows  and  Diomedes,  armed,  guards  the 
rear.  Diomedes  seems  out  of  place ; but  that  hero  was  in  the 
Iliad  specially  prominent  in  the  whole  affair  of  Briseis,1  and 
merely  to  insert  the  second  herald  would  weaken  the  picture. 
From  the  vase-painter’s  point  of  view  the  leading  warrior 
and  the  following  warrior  are  essential ; it  is  the  figure  of  Tal- 
thybius which  is  unusual,  and  inserted  in  deference  to  the 
Homeric  story. 

We  see  clearly  how  far  more  highly  the  painter  valued  the 
idea  than  the  fact.  Had  he  represented  the  lady  and  the  two 
heralds  in  attendance  he  would  have  missed  essential  features 
of  the  story,  that  Agamemnon  was  the  author  of  the  whole 
affair,  and  that  Diomedes  took  a prominent  part  in  it.  A 
modern  painter  would  have  laid  more  stress  on  Briseis  herself ; 

1 Professor  Robert,  in  his  Bild  und  Lied , p.  96,  suggests  that  Diomedes 
really  belongs  to  the  embassy  on  the  other  side,  and  is  transferred. 


XVI 


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273 


but  she  was  only  a captive,  a pawn  in  the  heroic  game  played 
by  the  kings.  Briseis  in  the  Iliad  is  not  at  all  prominent,  and 
the  modern  reader,  whose  ancestors  have  passed  through  the 
age  of  chivalry,  reads  with  a strange  feeling  the  words  of  Achil- 
les, “With  my  hands  never  will  I strive  with  thee  or  any  other 
for  the  sake  of  the  girl.” 

The  scene  of  the  event  is  indicated  in  that  simple  fashion 
which  may  be  called  the  method  of  abbreviation.  The  tree  on 
the  right  marks  the  plain  of  Troy  whence  the  group  come ; the 
seat  on  the  left  the  tent  of  Agamemnon,  in  which  a more  solid 
chair  would  be  out  of  place.  In  the  same  way  in  the  opposite 
scene,  sword  and  helmet  hung  up,  and  richly  ornamented  camp- 
stool,  epitomize  the  tent  of  Achilles,  and  signify  his  determina- 
tion to  cease  from  warring.  Is  it  possible  to  imagine  a simpler 
and  more  pleasing  symbolism  ? 

We  may  compare  with  this  rendering  of  the  scene  by  Hiero 
another,  in  the  British  Museum  (Fig.  93), 1 which  is  less  domi- 
nated by  artistic  tradition,  and  perhaps  equally  charming  in  its 
way,  though  inferior  in  technique.  Here  the  fetching  of 
Briseis  is  divided  into  two  scenes,  each  containing  six  figures. 
In  both,  with  small  variations,  recurs  the  same  group  of  the 
two  heralds,  of  whom  one  precedes  and  leads  while  the  other 
follows  Briseis.  The  artist  has  tried  to  bring  out  as  clearly  as 
possible  the  contrast  between  the  starting-place  and  the  goal 
of  the  journey.  On  one  side  of  the  vase  the  sulking  Achilles 
sits  wrapped  in  his  cloak  between  two  of  his  Myrmidons,  who 
appear  to  console  him  as  best  they  can.  Their  civic  dress 
shows  how  for  the  time  they  have  laid  aside  the  notion  of 
fighting.  Achilles  is  seated  in  his  tent,  and  his  arms  are  hung 
up  within  it.  On  the  other  side,  we  have  a far  more  stately 
building,  represented  by  the  two  pillars  which  flank  the  entrance 
of  the  palace  of  Agamemnon,  and  between  which  the  cortege 
passes.  Three  bearded  Greek  citizens  stand  outside  the  house. 

1 Hartwig,  Meisterschalen,  PI.  41. 


274 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Certainly  to  a modern  mind  the  scene  would  have  been  more 
effectively  rendered  if  Agamemnon  had  stood  within  his  palace, 
and  the  cortege  been  represented  as  approaching  it  from  the 
left.  Why  this  line  wTas  not  taken  it  is  hard  to  say.  We 


Fig.  93.  — Vase  in  British  Museum. 


must  not  expect  in  our  vase-painter  too  much  originality 
or  logical  thoroughness.  Professor  Robert  has  pointed  out 1 
that  in  his  representation  of  the  tent  of  Achilles,  the  artist 
has  admitted  the  influence  of  which  I have  already  spoken  as 
contamination.  The  wrapped-up  figure  of  the  seated  Achilles 
and  the  Myrmidon  standing  before  him,  leaning  on  a staff, 


1 Bild  und  Lied , p.  96. 


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LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


275 


might  well  be  close  copies  of  a group  consisting  of  Odysseus 
addressing  the  sulking  Achilles,  as  we  have  it  on  the  vase  last 
cited.  And  the  other  Myrmidon  reminds  us  of  the  Phoenix 
on  the  same  vase. 

Among  vases  distinctly  intended  to  portray  a Homeric  com- 
bat, a high  place  is  taken  by  the  kylix  from  Rhodes,  which  I 
first  published  in  the  Journal  of  Philology 1 (Fig.  94).  The 
vase  is  of  the  early  part  of  the  fifth  century,  in  the  severe 
red-figured  style.  One  of  the  scenes  depicted  on  it  is  the 
combat  of  Diomedes  and  Aeneas  in  the  fifth  book  of  the  Iliad . 
I may  briefly  recapitulate  the  details  of  the  combat.  Pandarus 
and  Aeneas  had  driven  in  a chariot  against  Diomedes,  who  was 


fighting  that  day  under  the  special  protection  of  Athena. 
Diomedes  first  strikes  Pandarus  with  his  spear,  and  brings 
him  to  the  ground ; Aeneas  springs  forward  to  protect  his  fallen 
comrade ; Diomedes  hurls  at  him  a mighty  rock,  which  strikes 
him  on  the  hip.  Aeneas,  however,  is  saved  from  death  by  the 
intervention  of  his  mother,  Aphrodite,  who  bears  him  away 
from  the  fray. 

As  the  names  Aeneas,  Diomedes,  Athena,  Aphrodite,  are  all 


iXII.,  p.  215. 


276 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


given,  there  can  be  no  question  but  that  the  vase-painter  was 
thinking  of  the  passage  in  the  Iliad;  and  since  we  have  no 
other  representation  of  this  scene,  it  is  unlikely  that  he  had 
any  model  to  go  by.  It  is  the  more  interesting  to  watch  his 
procedure.  The  central  group  is  of  an  ordinary  type  : a Greek 
hoplite  advances  against  a foe,  who  is  beaten  to  his  knees. 
Ilis  victory  is  indicated  not  only  by  the  attitudes,  but  also  by 
the  fact  that  a spear  is  sticking  in  the  body  of  Aeneas  below 
the  belt,  while  another  spear  is  broken  against  the  corselet  of 
Diomedes.  But  in  the  Homeric  text  there  is  nothing  about  an 
exchange  of  spears ; a rock  is  spoken  of  as  the  only  weapon. 
Between  the  warriors  one  sees  what  looks  like  the  outline  of  a 
rock  behind.  Can  this  be  a gentle  allusion  to  the  missile  ? 
Aphrodite  is  in  the  act  of  lifting  her  son  by  both  arms ; Athena 
stands  armed  behind  her  protege,  Diomedes.  This  is  a good 
example  of  the  looseness  to  fact  and  the  truth  to  idea  of  Greek 
artists.  The  defeat  of  Aeneas,  his  rescue  by  his  mother,  the 
divine  support  of  Diomedes,  are  all  clearly  portrayed ; but  the 
details  of  the  contest  are  given  without  any  pretence  to  accu- 
racy. An  ordinary  scheme  is  so  far  modified  as  to  have  a clear 
Homeric  reference,  that  is  all. 

We  have  on  late  vases  of  Apulia  illustrations  of  one  of  the 
most  stirring  events  in  the  Iliad , the  carrying  off  of  the  horses 
of  the  Thracian  king  Rhesus  by  Odysseus  and  Diomedes  (II.  X.) 
and  the  slaying  of  some  of  the  soldiers.  The  first  vase-paint- 
ing is  from  a cup  at  Berlin  1 (Fig.  95) ; it  gives  us  but  few  fig- 
ures, and  tells  the  story  in  the  simplest  way.  The  artist  rep- 
resents a wooded  scene ; a tree  and  a few  stones  are  sufficient 
to  mark  the  character  of  the  landscape.  In  the  background, 
amid  their  arms  which  lie  around,  three  Thracians  are  lying 
in  constrained  attitudes.  Thracians,  that  is,  they  are  meant 
to  be,  but  their  dress  and  equipment  are  not  that  proper  to 
Thracians,  which  we  find  on  Attic  vases  which  represent  the 

1 Gerhard,  Coupes  de  Berlin , PL  K. 


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LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


277 


death  of  Orpheus  at  the  hands  of  Thracian  women/  but  the 
dress  which  Greek  artists  give  to  the  peoples  of  Asia  Minor, 
Phrygians,  Persians,  and  Scythians.  In  the  foreground  Odys- 
seus, wearing  sailor’s  cap  and  chlamys,  with  drawn  sword  in 
his  hand,  leads  away  the  horses  of  Rhesus,  and  Diomedes,  also 


with  drawn  sword,  walks  beside  him.  It  will  be  remembered 
that  in  Homer  the  two  heroes  divide  the  task  before  them ; 
Diomedes  is  to  slay  the  sleeping  Thracians  while  Odysseus 
carries  off  the  noble  horses  of  Rhesus ; each  thus  acts  according 
to  his  nature. 

But  in  order  that  we  may  fully  understand  this  picture,  we 
must  compare  with  it  a fuller  version  of  the  same  scene,  which 
is  to  be  found  on  another  vase  of  the  same  period  2 (Fig.  96). 
In  this  the  group  of  Odysseus  with  the  horses  and  Diomedes 

1 See  Roscher’s  Lexikon , III.,  p.  1180  and  foil. 

2 Wiener  Vorlegebl, , C.  3,  2. 


278 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


is  very  similar,  and  Thracians  again  occupy  the  background; 
but  there  are  additions  which  make  the  interpretation  clearer. 
The  nature  of  the  ground,  evidently  a clearing  in  a forest,  is 
more  clearly  marked.  Of  the  Thracians,  one  is  standing  up, 
one  has  his  head  severed.  A second  figure  of  Diomedes  appears, 
who  rushes  on  the  reclining  figures,  bent  on  slaughter.  All 
these  points  have  importance.  The  headless  Thracian  sug- 
gests that  the  constrained  attitudes  of  the  rest  are  meant  to 
show  that  they  have  been  slain,  and  are  not  merely  asleep. 


The  standing  Thracian  has  evidently  been  waked,  and  is  giving 
the  alarm.  Homer  does  not  tell  us  that  any  of  the  Thracians 
was  awaked ; but  he  comes  near  it,  for  he  says  that  when 
Diomedes  came  to  King  Rhesus  he  was  breathing  hard,  for  an 
evil  dream  stood  above  his  head.  The  second  figure  of  Diom- 
edes is  very  curious.  This  seems  a distinct  instance  of  that 
method  of  continuous  narration  of  which  I have  spoken  above. 
Diomedes  is  represented  both  in  his  ravening  and  in  his  retreat. 


XVI 


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279 


Dr.  Engelmann  has  cited  in  connection  with  this  duplication 
the  passage  in  which  Homer  represents  Diomedes  as  hesitating 
whether  he  should  carry  out  the  chariot  or  go  on  to  slaughter 
more  of  the  foe.  This  citation  I think  misleading,  and  a good 
example  of  the  tendency  of  the  modern  archaeologist  to  sup- 
pose that  a vase-painter  must  work  on  the  basis  of  some  literary 
authority. 

The  vase-paintings  of  which  the  subject  is  taken  from  the 
wanderings  of  Odysseus,  as  detailed  in  the  Odyssey ,l  are  com- 
paratively few  in  number.  The  adventures  with  the  Cyclops, 
with  Circe,  with  the  Sirens,  and  with  Scylla,  all  occur  in  various 
ancient  works  of  art,  but  these  subjects  do  not  form  large 
groups.  Here  then  we  may  study  the  mutual  workings  of 
artistic  tradition  and  artistic  purpose  under  somewhat  different 
conditions.  I take  as  examples  an  archaic  vase  in  which  the 
blinding  of  the  Cyclops  is  represented,  and  a red-figured  vase 
whereon  is  depicted  the  adventure  with  the  Sirens. 

Every  one  will  remember  the  delightful  fairy  tale  which  tells 
how  Odysseus,  after  drugging  the  Cyclops  with  wine,  cut  a 
piece  from  his  club  and  hardened  the  point  of  it  in  the  fire,  and 
then  with  the  help  of  his  comrades  burnt  out  the  one  eye  of  the 
monster,  thus  reducing  him  to  helplessness.  In  depicting  this 
episode  the  one  essential  feature  which  the  vase-painters  can- 
not miss  is  the  actual  blinding ; the  Cyclops  must  be  reclining, 
and  two  or  three  men  driving  the  hardened  pole  into  his  eye. 
We  have  several  early  vase-pictures  of  the  subject.  In  the  oldest 
of  all,  the  vase  of  Aristonophos,2  the  scene  is  as  simply  rendered 
as  possible.  The  painter  of  a kylix  of  the  Spartan  class 3 
adds  two  curious  touches  — the  Cyclops  has  in  his  hands  the 
severed  legs  of  one  of  Odysseus’  companions,  and  the  hero  is 

1 They  are  put  together  in  Miss  Jane  Harrison’s  Myths  of  the  Odyssey.  4 

2 Engelmann’s  Bilderatlas  zur  Odyssee , PL  VI. 

3 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  I.,  7. 


280 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


in  the  act  of  offering  him  a bowl  of  wine.  Three  distinct  times, 
the  meal  of  the  Cyclops,  his  drunkenness,  and  his  blinding  are 
thus  amalgamated.  Quite  as  complete  is  the  anachronism  in 
the  black-figured  Attic  vase  which  I engrave  (Fig.  97). 1 Here 
Odysseus  figures  twice ; his  hat,  his  sword,  and  his  spotted  chi- 
ton being  identical  in  both  representations.  On  the  left  he  is 


Fig.  97. — Attic  vase. 


hardening  the  pole  in  the  fire,  on  the  right  he  is  directing  it 
into  the  eye  of  the  Cyclops.  This  pole  indeed  appears  thrice, 
since  it  is  represented  also  as  a club  in  the  hand  of  Polyphemus. 

The  monster  is  no  monster,  as  he  is  in  Etruscan  and  Pom- 
peian art,  save  for  size ; he  has  apparently  two  eyes,  and  a 
good  Greek  profile.  Here  we  have  the  inevitable  Greek  dis- 
like to  the  monstrous  triumphant.  It  is  noticeable  that  in  the 
Odyssey  the  deformity  of  the  Cyclops  is  not  dwelt  on.  He  is 
called  TreXcopos,  but  this  word  only  means  “huge,”  and  is  indeed 
often  applied  to  the  gods.  Homer  does  not,  like  Hesiod,  state 
that  the  Cyclops  had  but  one  eye,  though,  of  course,  if  Poly- 
phemus could  be  blinded  by  one  push  of  the  sharp  stake,  he 
cau  in  logic  have  had  but  one  eye.  The  fact  is  that  the  writer 
of  the  Odyssey  has  not  the  concrete  imagination  of  Greek  plastic 
1 Gazette  Archeol. , 1887,  PL  1. 


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LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


281 


art.  His  descriptions  of  the  strange  beings  whom  Odysseus 
encounters  are  often  vague ; the  Cyclopes  and  the  Laestrygones 
are  only  spoken  of  as  gigantic.  The  companions  of  Odysseus, 
when  bewitched  by  Circe,  do  not,  as  they  are  represented  on 
the  vases,  turn  into  animal-headed  men,  but  into  very  swine. 
The  Sirens  are  not  said  to  be  unlike  ordinary  women  in  form. 
Only  Scylla  is  frankly  spoken  of  as  monstrous,  as  having  twelve 
feet  and  six  heads,  as  being,  in  fact,  a six-fold  being,  and  seizing 
on  six  of  the  companions  of  Odysseus.  Scylla  in  Greek  art  is  in 
the  form  of  a mermaid,  with  dogs  about  her  middle.  The 
gap  between  the  vague  story-telling  of  Homer  and  the  definite 
and  concrete  spirit  of  Greek  plastic  art  is  very  striking. 

In  the  vase  which  I have  described,  then,  we  may  see  a tra- 
ditional scheme,  varied  by  the  desire  to  get  in  as  much  as  pos- 
sible of  the  Homeric  tale. 

In  the  next  vase-painting  we  have  a representation  of  the 
passing  of  the  Sirens,  from  an  amphora  in  the  British  Museum 
(Fig.  98). 1 The  ship  with  furled  sail  rows  swiftly  on,  with 
Odysseus  tied  to  the  mast,  according  to  his  own  directions. 
Two  Sirens,  in  the  form  of  human-headed  birds,  one  called 
Himeropa,  are  standing  singing  on  the  rocks,  a third  with  closed 
eyes  is  falling  headlong  into  the  sea.  We  have  here  three  in- 
teresting sets  of  facts : (1)  Homeric  reminiscence,  (2)  artistic 

tradition,  (3)  continuous  narration.  (1)  In  the  fact  that  the  sails 
are  furled  while  the  rowers  ply  their  oars  we  may  perhaps  see 
a reminiscence  of  the  Homeric  lines  (XII.,  170-172),  which  tell 
how  the  mariners  pulled  down  their  sails  and  took  to  their 
oars ; but  again  the  coincidence  may  be  fortuitous.  The  bind- 
ing of  Odysseus  to  the  mast  is,  of  course,  of  the  essence  of  the 
story,  and  could  not  be  missed.  (2)  Artistic  tradition  is  visible 
chiefly  in  the  forms  of  the  Sirens,  who  are  here  not  sweet- 
voiced women,  as  in  Homer,  and  on  some  Roman  sarcophagi, 
but  birds  with  human  heads,  an  art  form  which  in  Egypt 

1 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  I.,  8;  Brit.  Mus.  Cat.,  III.,  268. 


282 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


stood  for  the  soul,  but  was  otherwise  used  among  the  Greeks. 
Here,  as  in  many  cases,  the  Greeks,  to  repeat  the  phrase  of 
Brunn,  borrowed  the  letters  of  art  from  the  Ea^t,  but  used 
them  to  spell  out  their  own  ideas.  It  must  be  confessed  that 
in  these  bird-women  there  is  nothing  terrible ; one  would  expect 


a warrior  like  Odysseus  to  make  short  work  with  them.  The 
Greeks  carried  their  dislike  of  the  horrible  in  art  sometimes  to  an 
extreme  length.  (3)  I am  disposed  to  see  contamination  and 
continuous  narration  in  the  introduction  of  the  dead  Siren 
falling  into  the  sea,  for  there  was  a story  current  after  the  Ho- 
meric age,  that  when  the  Argonauts  passed  the  islands  of  the 
Sirens,  Orpheus  entered  into  a musical  contest  with  them,  and 
defeated  them,  on  which  they  threw  themselves  into  the  sea 
in  despair.  This  story  seems  to  have  been  transferred  by  the 
vase-painter  into  the  myth  of  Odysseus.  In  this  case  the  second 
Siren,  she  on  the  right,  would  be  depicted  at  two  different  mo- 
ments, first  as  singing,  second  as  throwing  herself  into  the  sea, 
and  indeed  as  already  dead.  It  may  be  to  some  extent  a con- 


XVI 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING:  THE  EPIC 


283 


firmation  of  this  interpretation  that  Homer  mentions  but  two 
Sirens ; but  this  is,  of  course,  not  conclusive ; and  nymphs  and 
daemons  of  this  class  commonly  go  in  threes. 

I have  already  observed  that  the  subjects  of  vase-paintings 
are  far  more  frequently  taken  from  the  other  poems  of  the 
epic  cycle  than  from  the  Iliad  or  the  Odyssey.  Something 
must  be  said  about  this  large  class  of  paintings.  But  as  we 
have  no  actual  text  of  the  cyclic  writers  for  comparison,  it  will 
be  best  to  reserve  one  of  the  most  ordinary  and  typical  subjects 
of  representation,  the  Judgment  of  Paris,  for  full  treatment  in  a 
later  chapter. 

I will  take  one  more  example,  from  the  Homeric  Hymns, 
which  though  they  belong  of  course  to  a later  age  than  the 
Homeric,  are  perhaps  best  treated  of  here. 

In  the  seventh  hymn  we  find  a charming  tale  of  how  Diony- 
sus, when  wandering  by  the  shore  of  the  sea  in  the  guise  of  a 
beautiful  youth,  was  seized  and  carried  off  by  Tyrrhenian 
pirates.  But  as  soon  as  they  started,  wine  began  to  flow  on 
the  deck,  vine  and  ivy  to  twine  round  the  mast,  and  presently 
the  deity  took  the  form  of  a raging  lion,  for  fear  of  whom  the 
pirates  sprang  into  the  sea  and  were  transmuted  into  dolphins. 

This  story  is  represented  in  the  reliefs  of  the  well-known 
monument  of  Lysicrates  at  Athens,  which  are  closely  analogous 
in  composition  to  paintings.  But  everything  is  translated  so 
as  to  suit  the  artistic  conditions.  In  a long  narrow  field  a ship 
could  not  well  be  the  scene  of  the  event;  so  it  takes  place  on 
the  land.  The  agent  of  the  wrath  of  Dionysus  is  not  a lion, 
but  the  faithful  Satyrs  who  usually  attend  him,  though  accord- 
ing to  the  tale  in  this  case  they  were  conspicuously  absent. 
Some  of  the  pirates  are  being  captured  or  beaten ; others  are 
leaping  into  the  sea,  and  as  they  leap  are  becoming  dolphins : 
and  this  last  fact  is  really  almost  the  only  one  common  to 
hymn  and  relief.  In  a vase-painting  we  should  expect  a some- 
what nearer  approach  to  the  tale  of  the  hymn,  but  our  example 
is  very  characteristic  of  Greek  artistic  methods. 


CHAPTER  XVII 


LITERATURE  AND  PAINTING  CONTINUED  : LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC 

POETRY 

Lyric  Poetry.  — We  return  once  more  to  the  observations  of 
Jahn  as  to  the  influence  of  poetry  on  painting,  and  have  to 
consider  whether  either  in  method  of  representing  a story,  or 
in  general  tone,  vases  reflect  the  influence  of  that  lyric  poetry 
of  Greece  which  succeeded  the  epic.  In  some  cases  the  lyric 
poets  did  not  accept  the  epic  version  of  a tale,  but  preferred  a 
refinement  of  their  own  invention.  Could  versions  of  myth, 
which  were  due  to  some  innovating  poet,  find  a place  in  art  ? 
From  what  has  already  been  said  as  to  the  relations  of  litera- 
ture and  art  this  would  seem  unlikely.  Nor  do  I think  we 
have  any  satisfactory  examples  of  it,  though  some  have  been 
suggested  by  archaeologists.  One  of  the  greatest  poetical  inno- 
vators was  Stesichorus  of  Himera,  who  lived  about  600  b.c., 
and  who  is  said  to  have  introduced  new  elements  and  new 
motives  into  current  and  Homeric  myth.  Among  other  such 
innovations,  he  declared  that  Helen  had  never  really  been  at 
Troy,  that  the  Trojans  held  but  a ghost  or  simulacrum  of  her, 
while  the  real  Helen  tarried  in  Egypt.  Thus  he  tried  to  save 
the  reputation  of  the  heroine.  He  also  found  difficulties  in  the 
tale  that  Artemis  had  turned  the  inquisitive  Actaeon  into  a 
stag,  to  be  pulled  down  by  his  own  dogs,  and  feigned  rather 
that  the  goddess  had  merely  thrown  a stag’s  skin  over  his 
shoulders.  It  is  most  unlikely  that  such  rationalism  as  this 
would  find  a way  into  the  representations  of  Greek  art.  Pro- 
fessor Robert  has  maintained  that  the  figure  of  Actaeon  on  the 

284 


CHAP.  XVII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


285 


well-known  metope  of  Selinus  takes  the  form  it  does  in  conse- 
quence of  the  views  of  Stesichorus ; 1 but  when  on  some  vases 
the  companions  of  Odysseus,  whom  Circe,  had  bewitched,  ap- 
pear as  men  with  the  heads  of  animals,  and  on  others  in  com- 
plete animal  form,  this  variety  is  not  held  to  denote  connection 
with  two  different  sets  of  legends.  There  are  many  ways  in 
which  the  metamorphosis  of  a human  being  into  a plant  or  an 
animal  is  depicted.  On  the  monument  of  Lysicrates,  the 
pirates  who  were  turned  into  dolphins  appear  as  half  men  and 
half  fish.  But  Daphne,  who  became  a laurel,  appears  in  Pom- 
peian paintings  as  human,  with  laurel  sprays  springing  from 
head  and  shoulders.  And  Thetis  in  her  transformations  retains 
the  human  shape,  while  the  animals  into  which  she  transforms 
herself  appear  beside  her  (Fig.  78).  Artistic  custom  thus  vary- 
ing, there  is  no  sufficient  proof  of  the  influence  on  the  metope 
of  Selinus  of  the  writings  of  Stesichorus. 

On  a previous  page  (Fig.  52)  I have  figured  an  interesting 
vase-painting  representing  the  descent  of  Theseus  into  the  sea, 
to  the  court  of  Poseidon,  to  bring  back  the  ring  of  Minos.  This 
story  does  not  seem  to  have  been  known  to  the  epic.  Pro- 
fessor Robert  discussed  it 2 in  1889,  and  was  then  disposed  to 
consider  the  story  of  the  love  of  Minos  for  Periboea  and  the 
throwing  of  the  ring  into  the  sea  as  due  to  the  play  of  Theseus 
by  Euripides,  and  taken  thence  by  the  painter.  But  a new 
light  has  been  thrown  upon  the  subject  by  the  discovery  of 
fragments  of  Bacchylides,  in  which  the  tale  is  given,  and  it 
might  now  appear  that  it  was  Bacchylides  who  was  the  source. 
But  this  can  only  be  a conjecture ; it  is  very  likely  that  this 
poet  only  gives  form  to  floating  Attic  legends.  All  the  Theseus 
tales  gain  fresh  popularity  at  Athens  somewhat  before  the  mid- 
dle of  the  fifth  century.  At  any  rate,  the  mistaken  view  as  to 
the  debt  of  the  vase-painter  to  Euripides  should  be  a warning, 

1 Bild  und  Lied , p.  26. 

2 In  the  Arch.  Anzeiger,  1889,  p.  141. 


286 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


and  prevent  us  from  quickly  accepting  a new  hypothesis  which 
may  be  based,  like  the  previous  one,  on  the  mere  absence  of 
evidence. 

As  to  the  third  kind  of  influence,  which  shows  itself  merely 
in  tone  and  treatment,  one  cannot  speak  positively.  It  is  Otto 
Jahn  who  laid  stress  on  the  lyric  tone  or  background  some- 
times to  be  observed  in  works  of  Greek  art.  He  speaks  of  the 
sculptors  of  pathos  — Scopas,  Praxiteles,  and  the  like  — as  offer- 
ing us  something  parallel  to  lyric  poetry.  But  these  artists 
were  not  contemporary  with  the  great  lyric  age  of  Greece, 
and  the  parallelism  is  by  no  means  clear.  In  any  case,  we  can 
scarcely  carry  the  view  further,  to  include  works  of  so  unam- 
bitious a class  as  vase-paintings. 

Tragedy . — We  come  finally  to  the  dramatic  writings  of  the 
great  Athenian  poets  of  the  fifth  century.  How  far  did  Aeschy- 
lus or  Euripides  influence  vase-painting  ? 

Subjects.  — It  can  easily  be  shown  that  the  choice  of  subjects 
by  vase-painters  is  often  determined  by  the  existence  of  well- 
known  tragedies  which  dealt  with  particular  myths.  We  have 
reason  to  think  that  the  Orestes  trilogy  of  Aeschylus  and  the 
tragedies  of  Euripides  were  especially  popular  and  often  acted 
in  the  Hellenistic  age.  The  subject  of  the  fate  of  Orestes,  and 
myths  dealt  with  in  many  of  the  plays  of  Euripides  are  de- 
cidedly common  on  the  late  vases  of  Lower  Italy,  but  not  on 
the  Athenian  vases  of  the  fifth  century.  Thus  it  would  seem 
that  the  Greek  drama  exercised  this  kind  of  influence  much 
more  one  or  two  centuries  after  the  great  age  of  the  drama 
than  it  did  at  the  time.  We  shall  find  examples  as  we  go  on. 
But  the  influence  is  more  often  to  be  observed  in  the  mere 
choice  of  theme  than  in  the  way  in  which  the  theme  is  worked 
out. 

Manner  of  Treatment.  — How  far  the  manner  of  tragedy 
influenced  art  is  a question  which  has  been  a good  deal  dis- 
cussed. In  my  opinion,  if  the  elements  of  Greek  art  had  been 


XVII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


287 


better  understood,  much  of  this  discussion  would  not  have 
arisen.  It  has  in  fact  often  sprung  from  the  predominance  in 
those  who  have  written  about  ancient  art  of  a literary  training, 
which  has  induced  them  to  think  that  the  masterpieces  of 
tragedy  exercised  in  Greece  at  the  time  of  their  production  an 
influence  far  wider  and  more  general  than  actually  existed. 
On  careful  consideration  I cannot  find  that  much  is  to  be  gained 
by  an  attempt  like  that  of  Jahn  to  set  apart  sculptural  or 
painted  groups  as  in  general  character  related  to  tragedy. 
He  mentions  as  such  the  celebrated  group  of  the  Tyrannicides, 
Harmodius  and  Aristogeiton,  copies  of  which  are  in  the  Naples 
Museum,  statues  in  which,  as  he  says,  the  sculptor  put  before 
himself  the  task  of  representing  a deed  at  a pregnant  moment 
in  an  ethical  light.  Perhaps  we  may  more  safely  insist  on  the 
dramatic  character  of  such  compositions  as  those  of  the  Parthe- 
non pediments,  where  the  interest  rises,  so  to  speak,  to  a cul- 
mination in  the  midst  of  the  pediment,  where  Athena  is  being 
born  or  winning  her  triumph  over  Poseidon.  Here  we  seem  to 
have  the  dramatic  action  of  groups,  while  the  other  figures  in 
the  pediments  are  present  like  the  spectators,  or  indeed  more 
like  the  chorus  in  a theatre.  Yet  even  in  this  case  it  is  rather  a 
dramatic  tendency  in  sculpture  which  makes  itself  felt  than  an 
example  of  the  influence  of  the  great  tragic  poets  of  Athens. 
Why  should  not  sculpture  be  dramatic  as  well  as  literature  ? 

It  would  seem  to  us  to  be  almost  inevitable,  since  some  of 
the  best  vases  were  produced  at  Athens  during  the  time  when 
the  drama  was  most  flourishing,  that  we  should  be  able  to  trace 
in  their  designs  the  influence  of  the  great  dramatic  poets.  That 
the  vase-painters  should  transfer  to  their  paintings  something 
of  what  met  their  eyes  every  year  at  the  great  Dionysiac  festi- 
vals would  seem  the  most  natural  proceeding  possible.  But  the 
expected  does  not  always  happen.  It  is  agreed  by  most  archae- 
ologists who  have  written  on  the  subject  that  it  is  not  possible 
to  discover  on  vases  of  the  fifth  century  any  instance  of  direct 


288 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


borrowing  of  situation  or  event  from  theatrical  representation. 
This  fact  can  only  be  explained  by  the  consideration  that  alike 
vase-painting  and  stage-acting  were  under  the  dominion  of  a 
number  of  traditions  which  kept  the  two  arts  rigidly  apart. 
The  tragic  actor  with  his  mask,  his  trailing  robes,  and  high 
buskins,  when  off  the  stage,  as  the  Greeks  themselves  allowed, 
cut  a ridiculous  figure;  and,  as  a matter  of  fact,  he  does  not 
make  his  way  into  art  until  near  the  Roman  age.  And  if  the 
tragedian  was  obliged  to  modify  time-honoured  traditions  in 
order  to  limit  the  number  of  characters  on  the  stage  to  three, 
there  could  be  no  reason  why  the  vase-painter  should  slavishly 
follow  his  leading  in  this  matter. 

It  is  no  doubt  exceedingly  tempting,  when  one  finds  on  a 
vase  of  the  fifth  century  a scene  which  we  know  to  have  also 
appeared  on  the  contemporary  stage,  to  bring  the  two  together. 
Many  able  writers,  including  even  Brunn,  have  been  unable  to 
resist  the  temptation ; and  hence  have  arisen  many  conjectures 
as  to  the  line  taken  in  lost  plays  of  the  great  dramatists,  or  as 
to  variant  traditions  which  have  influenced  poet  and  painter. 
But  in  the  arena  of  archaeological  discussion  none  of  these 
views  has  held  its  own,  and  Professor  Robert,  after  a careful 
discussion,  has  rejected  them  all.  In  fact,  the  method  is  faulty, 
as  will  appear  from  our  brief  exposition  above  of  the  indepen- 
dence of  vase-painters  of  the  influence  of  contemporary  poetry. 

The  only  influence  which  can  be  traced  on  contemporary 
art  is  an  indirect  one.  I have  above  spoken  of  the  messenger 
scheme  and  the  chorus  scheme  (chapter  XV).  As  these  both 
become  more  frequent  on  vases  towards  the  middle  of  the  fifth 
century,  we  may,  perhaps,  see  here  a contemporary  reflection 
of  the  popularity  of  those  schemes  on  the  stage,  where  they  are 
indeed  indispensable. 

But  in  the  vases  produced  in  the  fourth  and  third  centuries 
in  the  south  of  Italy,  and  especially  at  Tarentum,  we  can  some- 
times trace  the  influence  exerted  by  the  great  Attic  drama  upon 


XYII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


289 


the  pictorial  rendering  of  scenes  from  the  lives  of  heroes.  This 
may  be  seen  especially  in  two  examples.  The  story  of  Orestes, 
scenes  from  which  are  not  infrequent  on  Italian  vases,  takes 
colour  from  the  great  trilogy  of  Aeschylus,  and  the  dramas  of 
Euripides  largely  affect  the  art-representations  of  the  myths 
treated  by  him.  That  the  Attic  treatment  of  these  subjects 
became  familiar  to  the  Italian  vase-painters  was  no  doubt 
mainly  due  to  the  wanderings  in  Italy,  after  the  time  of  Alex- 
ander the  Great,  of  troops  of  actors,  Dionysiac  artists  as  they 
were  called,  who  carried  from  city  to  city  their  repertory  of 
plays,  consisting  largely  of  the  works  of  Euripides. 

Of  the  appearance  on  vases  of  the  late  Italian  class  of  certain 
kinds  of  persons,  familiar  to  readers  of  the  Euripidean  tragedy, 
the  deus  ex  machina,  the  ghost,  the  pedagogue,  and  the  nurse,  I 
will  give  an  example  or  two. 

Two  vases,  one  at  Berlin  and  one  at  Rome,1  give  us  an  un- 
familiar version  of  the  fate  of  Antigone.  She  is  brought  as  a 
prisoner  before  Creon  by  a guard ; but  Herakles  intervenes 
between  her  and  condemnation.  It  is  possible  that  in  the  lost 
Antigone  of  Euripides,  Herakles  may  at  the  crisis  have  appeared 
ex  machina ; but  it  may  be  that  some  merely  traditional  version 
of  the  story  is  followed.  On  one  of  the  vases  Herakles  is  stand- 
ing in  a temple  or  shrine.  A shrine  in  the  background  is  in  this 
class  of  vases  a common  feature ; but  it  has  nothing  to  do  with 
the  dramatic  stage.  One  suspects  therefore  that  the  connec- 
tion between  these  vase-paintings  and  the  drafna  is  not  close. 
Of  the  Antigone  of  Sophocles  no  influence  is  to  be  traced. 

On  vases  which  represent  the  crime  of  Medea  2 we  find  some- 
times the  ghost  of  Aietes ; and  the  pedagogue  in  charge  of  the 
children  is  sometimes  present,  as  he  is  in  the  Florence  sculptural 
group  of  the  destruction  of  the  children  of  Niobe.  A nurse  is 
often  present  in  late  vase-pictures  to  attend  either  on  ladies  of 

1 Archaol.  Zeitung,  1871,  PL  40. 

2 Such  as  Archaol.  Zeitung , 1847,  PL  3, 

U 


290 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


rank  or  on  children.  Thus  on  a vase  which  represents  Telephus 
in  the  palace  of  Agamemnon  threatening  the  life  of  the  young 
Orestes,1  a nurse  is  present.  It  has  been  conjectured  that  this 
vase-painting  may  have  some  relation  to  the  play  of  Euripides 
on  the  theme  of  Telephus. 

But  even  when  we  allow  the  influence  upon  later  vase-paint- 
ings of  certain  Attic  tragedies,  we  must  be  careful  to  observe 
that  it  is  the  plot  rather  than  the  staging  which  had  an  effect. 
Archaeologists,  in  commenting  on  the  points  of  connection  be- 
tween the  two,  have  often  been  ready  to  forget  the  great  gulf 
which  lies  between  ancient  and  modern  stage-production.  The 
costume  worn  by  all  the  actors  on  the  Greek  stage  to  the  very 
end  was  specially  planned  by  its  great  inventor,  Aeschylus,  to 
remove  them  from  likeness  to  ordinary  men  and  women.  The 
mask  was  invariable,  and  it  was  frankly  a mask,  no  close  imi- 
tation of  a face.  The  long,  bright-coloured  robes  of  the  per- 
sonages, and  their  high  buskins,  must  have  made  any  rapid 
movement  as  impossible  as  was  facial  play.  The  plays  were 
recited  rather  than  acted  on  the  stage,  and  the  great  qualifi- 
cations of  the  actor  (actresses  of  course  being  unknown)  were 
a loud  and  clear  voice  and  a correct  pronunication.  It  is  easy 
to  understand  that  vase-painters  would  rather  represent  scenes 
even  of  the  Medea  or  the  Hippolytus  in  their  own  way  than  in 
the  way  adopted  on  the  stage. 

I do  not  propose  here  to  treat  in  detail  of  the  vase-paintings 
of  Lower  Italy  which  may  be  regarded  as  parallel  to  the  Orestes 
trilogy  of  Aeschylus  and  the  dramas  of  Euripides.  All  the 
most  important  examples  are  engraved  in  a work  so  easily 
accessible  as  Baumeister’s  Denkmaler  under  their  respective 
headings.  In  VogePs  Scenen  Euripideischer  Tragodien  in 
griechischen  V as  eng  emalden  will  be  found  full  lists  of  such  vases, 
and  each  painting  is  compared  with  the  play  on  the  same  sub- 
1 Archaol.  Zeitung,  1857,  PL  106. 


XVII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


291 


ject.  In  Mr.  Huddilston’s  Greek  Tragedy  in  the  Light  of  Vase- 
paintings  the  reader  will  find  much  useful  information.  I will 
only  take  as  examples  of  method  two  vases : one  to  show  how 
closely  in  a few  rare  instances  the  vase-painter  will  come  to  the 
text  of  the  play,  and  one  to  show  how  strongly  in  the  great  major- 
ity of  cases  he  preserves  his  independence. 

First,  then,  I represent  a scene  from  a late  and  poor  vase  at 
St.  Petersburg  (Fig.  99). 1 We  here  see  Orestes  in  the  temple 


at  Delphi,  clinging  to  the  omphalos,  with  the  naked  sword  in 
his  hand.  Before  the  temple  lie  the  Erinnyes  sleeping,  repre- 
sented as  hideous  women  in  hunting  dress,  without  wings  or 
snakes.  To  the  right  a female  figure,  identified  as  the  priestess 
by  the  great  temple-key  which  she  carries,  flies  in  terror  at  the 

1 First  published  by  Stephani,  Comptes  rendus,  1863,  PI.  VI.,  3-5,  from  the 
Campana  collection.  On  the  other  side  of  the  vase  are  a satyr  and  a maenad 
standing  by  a krater. 


292 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


sight.  The  closeness  of  the  situation  to  that  which  occurs  at 
the  beginning  of  Aeschylus’  Eumenides,  where  the  priestess 
comes  forth  from  the  stage  door,  which  represents  the  door  of 
the  temple,  and  tells  what  she  has  seen,  will  occur  to  every 
one  who  has  read  Aeschylus.  But  after  all  the  likeness  is  to 
the  play,  not  to  the  acting  of  it.  Orestes  and  the  priestess  are 
not  clad  in  mask  and  flowing  drapery  and  buskins,  as  they 
would  be  on  the  stage.  And  the  temple  would  certainly  not 
be  thus  erected  on  the  stage : the  front  of  it  would  be  merely 
the  front  of  the  stage  building.1  The  Erinnyes  are  a reminis- 
cence of  the  description  by  the  priestess  in  Eumenides , 52-55. 
She  speaks  of  them  first  as  women,  then  as  Gorgons,  and  yet 
not  quite  like  Gorgons,  but  rather  like  the  Harpies  in  pictures 
bearing  off  the  food  of  Phineus,  yet  differing  from  Harpies  in 
not  being  winged,  though  black  and  hideous. 

Now  before  the  time  of  Aeschylus  the  Erinnyes  had  not  thus 
been  represented,  but  as  staid  and  venerable  deities,  clad  in 
long  robes,  carrying  serpents,2  three  in  number,  as  were  usually 
the  groups  of  nymphs  and  maiden  deities  at  Athens.  Aes- 
chylus innovated  by  increasing  their  number,  and  by  giving 
them  a foul  and  hideous  aspect,  and  he  succeeded  so  well  in 
this  latter  respect  that  he  is  said  to  have  produced  a panic  in 
the  theatre.  In  both  these  respects  our  vase-painter  follows 
the  Aeschylean  stage  tradition  rather  than  the  older  type,  and 
we  may  see  by  this  instance  that  the  nearer  a vase-painter 
comes  to  actual  illustration  of  a poet  the  less  interesting  does 
he  become. 

In  some  of  the  Orestean  vase-paintings  the  Erinnyes  are  rep- 
resented as  winged.  They  seem  thus  to  have  been  brought  on 
the  stage  by  Euripides;  but  in  fact  this  was  a reversion  to  an 
older  notion,  the  Gorgons,  Harpies,  and  other  unpropitious 
daemons  being  generally  represented  in  early  art  with  wings. 

1 Journal  of  Hellenic  Studies,  XIX.,  257—262. 

2 For  example,  a dedication  at  Argos,  Athen.  Mittheil.,  IV.,  9. 


XVII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


293 


Very  different  is  the  other  vase-painting  which  I figure 1 
(Fig.  100).  Here  we  have  a subject  which  is  probably  taken 
from  a play  of  Euripides,  the  Iphigeneia  in  Tauris,  but  in  the 
treatment  there  is  nothing  to  suggest  such  a derivation.  In  the 
background,  that  is,  according  to  early  perspective,  at  the  top  of 
the  picture,  we  see  the  Tauric  Artemis  and  her  temple ; beside 
her  sits  her  brother  Apollo.  In  the  foreground  is  a laurel  tree 
and  an  altar ; Orestes  sits  on  the  altar  and  Pylades  stands  beside 
him,  while  Iphigeneia,  holding  a knife  for  the  sacrifice,  ap- 
proaches the  altar,  accompanied  by  an  attendant,  who  carries 
on  her  head  the  other  things  necessary  for  the  sacrifice.  It  is 
evident  that  the  subject  is  the  preparation  for  the  sacrifice  of 
Orestes  and  his  companion  to  Artemis,  but  the  sacrifice  is  but 
hinted  at.  There  is  no  action,  still  less  any  flavour  of  tragic 
treatment.  The  gods  in  the  background  are  a regular  feature 
of  this  kind  of  vase. 

From  first  to  last,  speaking  broadly,  the  vase-painter  is  true 
to  the  principles  of  his  vocation,  and  follows  the  lines  of  his 
art  without  wavering. 

We  may  find  a reflection,  not  indeed  of  the  Euripidean  stage, 
but  of  Euripidean  poetry,  in  some  of  the  wall-paintings  of 
Pompeii.  One  of  the  most  noted  of  these  2 represents  Orestes 
and  Pylades  brought  as  captives  before  King  Thoas  in  Tauris, 
while  Iphigeneia  stands  in  the  background,  at  the  door  of  her 
temple,  holding  in  her  hands  the  image  of  Artemis.  There  is 
something  in  the  simplicity  of  the  grouping  and  the  pathos  of 
the  expression  which  suggests  that  it  may  be  a copy  of,  or 
suggested  by,  the  work  of  a painter  of  an  earlier  age.  What 
it  represents  is  not  primarily  a scene  from  the  drama  of  Euri- 
pides, but  a situation.  The  capture  of  the  two  friends,  their 
condemnation  by  Thoas,  their  deliverance  by  Iphigeneia,  even 

1 From  a Ruvo  vase  in  the  Naples  Museum.  Published  in  Mon.  d.  Inst., 
II.,  43. 

2 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  VIII.,  22. 


294 


PRINCIPLES  OP  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Fig.  100.  — Vase  of  Ruvo. 


XVII 


LYRIC  AND  DRAMATIC  POETRY 


295 


the  carrying  away  of  the  image  to  Greece,  — all  is  hinted  at  in 
the  painting;  but  there  is  no  suggestion  of  acting,  or  of  the 
stage.  Perhaps  still  more  closely  related  to  Euripidean  ideas 
and  poetry  is  the  figure  of  Medea  holding  the  sword  and  meditat- 
ing the  slaying  of  her  children,  which  we  find  in  more  than  one 
example  at  Pompeii.  Sometimes  the  figure  of  Medea  is  de- 
tached from  its  connection  and  stands  as  an  epitome  of  a tragic 
situation.1  No  figure  of  antiquity  has  come  down  to  us  which 
is  fuller  of  expression.  As  a late  Greek  painter,  Timomachus, 
is  known  to  have  painted  a noted  picture  of  Medea,  it  is  not 
out  of  the  way  to  suppose  that  he  is  the  originator  of  the  Medea 
of  the  Pompeian  paintings,  though  of  course  the  Pompeian 
artist  greatly  vulgarizes  what  he  copies. 

When  we  pass  to  a still  later  class  of  monuments  than  the 
vase-paintings  of  Calabria  and  the  wall-paintings  of  Pompeii, 
namely,  to  the  Roman  sarcophagi,  we  certainly  find  frequent 
treatment  of  the  subjects  adopted  by  Aeschylus  and  Euripides. 
The  great  dramatists  had  given  form  and  currency  to  certain 
myths,  which  thus  became  interesting  to  Roman  poets  and 
mythcgraphers.  And  they  became  familiar  also  to  the  second- 
rate  sculptors  who  made  sarcophagi  for  wealthy  Romans.  But 
it  was  the  tale  as  current  in  literature,  not  the  play  as  acted 
on  the  stage,  which  influenced  these  sculptors.  We  find  no 
reminiscence  of  the  mask  or  the  flowing  tragic  robes.  What 
we  do  find  is  something  much  nearer  to  illustration,  in  the 
modern  sense  of  the  word ; though  the  crowding  of  successive 
events  of  the  drama  into  a single  field  of  the  sarcophagus, 
involving  the  method  of  continuous  narration,  of  which  I have 
spoken  above,  is  a thing  foreign  to  modern  art.  Several  sar- 
cophagi, for  example,  give  us  a series  of  scenes  from  the  story  of 
Orestes.  In  the  case  of  one  2 we  find  on  the  side  a representa- 
tion of  the  slaying  of  Agamemnon  and  Clytemnestra,  with  the 

1 Museo  Borbonico , V.,  33  ; VIII.,  22  ; X.,  21. 

2 Robert,  Die  antiken  Sarkophag-Reliefs , PI.  LV.  Cf.  PL  LIV. 


296 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XVII 


Eumenides  in  the  background,  while  on  one  end  we  have  the 
acquittal  of  Orestes  by  Athena,  on  the  other  Orestes  and  Pylades 
in  Tauris.  Here,  at  all  events,  the  fashion  of  the  Eumenides 
and  the  presence  of  Athena  are  due  to  the  influence  of  Aeschylus. 
But  they  have  clearly  by  this  time  become  part  of  the  myth, 
and  there  is  no  direct  relation  to  the  drama. 

I do  not  propose  to  carry  the  history  of  the  relations  between 
poem  and  painting  down  to  the  poems  of  the  Hellenistic  or  the 
Roman  age.  There  is  undoubtedly  a parallelism,  for  it  must 
rather  be  so  termed  than  spoken  of  as  a connection,  between 
the  poems  of  the  Alexandrian  writers,  Theocritus,  Apollonius 
Rhodius,  Callimachus,  and  their  contemporaries,  together  with 
the  Roman  writers  of  the  Augustan  age,  who  owe  so  much  to 
them,  and  the  abundant  wall-paintings  of  Pompeii  and  Rome. 
Both  alike  are  dominated  by  the  influence  of  Alexandria  and 
the  other  great  urban  centres  of  the  Hellenistic  world.  Both 
alike  reflect  the  character  of  that  world,  in  playful  treatment 
of  the  myths  of  gods  and  heroes,  in  a more  sentimental  regard 
for  women,  in  a growing  appreciation  and  love  of  natural 
scenery,  and  in  many  other  respects.  It  is  impossible,  without 
good  representations  of  several  of  the  paintings,  to  go  into  fur- 
ther detail  as  to  the  manner  in  which  they  embody  the  ideas  of 
the  Hellenistic  age.  The  best  book  on  the  subject  remains, 
after  many  years,  Dr.  Ilelbig’s  Campanische  Wandmalerei; 
an  English  book  on  the  subject  is  greatly  needed. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH:  THE  JUDGMENT  OF  PARIS 

The  relations  between  art-representation,  on  one  side,  and 
literature,  on  the  other,  might  best  be  illustrated  by  placing  side 
by  side  the  literary  and  the  artistic  treatment  of  a myth  in 
successive  periods.  Unfortunately,  there  is  no  myth  which 
lends  itself  quite  satisfactorily  to  such  treatment.  The  favourite 
themes  of  vases  are  taken  from  the  tales  embodied  in  the  cyclic 
poets.  Subjects  are  seldom  taken  from  the  tales  of  the  Iliad 
and  Odyssey ; nor  do  the  fortunes  of  the  houses  of  Oedipus  and 
Atreus,  which  furnish  much  of  the  material  of  the  Tragic  Poets, 
meet  with  satisfactory  treatment  on  vases.  This  being  the 
case,  it  is  better  to  take  for  our  theme  a subject  fully  dealt  with 
in  all  the  periods  of  art,  but  not  of  great  literary  importance, 
rather  than  a theme  familiar  to  the  poets,  but  only  rarely  ap- 
pearing in  Greek  painting. 

On  the  whole  the  best  subject  which  can  be  chosen  is  that  of 
the  Judgment  of  Paris,  which  fulfils  the  conditions  just  named. 
The  abundance  of  representations  on  vases  is  great ; and  their 
investigation  will  make  clear  the  necessity  of  comparing  one 
with  another,  and  explaining  one  by  another,  taking  them  in 
groups  rather  than  one  by  one.  We  shall  find  that  they  will 
resolve  themselves  into  an  orderly  series,  running  parallel  to 
the  literary  and  artistic  history  of  Greece.  And  we  shall  find 
that,  when  any  representation  differs  from  the  general  run,  the 
reason  far  more  often  lies  in  artistic  purpose  than  in  any  in- 
fluence exercised  by  literature. 

I propose  to  set  forth  period  by  period  the  literary  and  the 
archaeological  data  in  regard  to  the  myth. 

297 


298 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


(I)  Early  period  down  to  B.C.  4^0 

Here  our  literary  authorities  are  the  Cypria  and  the  Iliad . 
In  the  Iliad  (XXIV.  25),  we  find  mention  made  of  .the  anger 
cherished  against  Paris  by  Hera  and  Athena  “in  that  he  con- 
demned those  goddesses,  when  they  came  to  his  home,  and 
preferred  her  who  brought  to  him  deadly  lustfulness.”  These 
words  belong  to  a late  stratum  in  the  poem,  and  they  may  be 
an  interpolation  due  to  the  Cypria.  In  the  latter  poem,  accord- 
ing to  the  summary  of  Proclus,  it  was  related  how  Eris,  entering 
while  the  gods  were  feasting  at  the  wedding  of  Peleus,  stirred 
up  a strife  on  the  subject  of  beauty  between  Athena,  Hera,  and 
Aphrodite,  who  were  led  by  Hermes  at  the  command  of  Zeus 
to  Mount  Ida,  where  Paris  was  to  decide  the  quarrel.  Paris 
preferred  Aphrodite,  excited  by  her  promise  to  him  of  Helen 
as  a bride. 

It  is  very  difficult,  from  this  bald  summary,  to  determine 
what  was  and  what  w^s  not  in  the  Cypria . If  Aphrodite  tried 
to  bribe  Paris,  we  may  not  unreasonably  suppose  that  the 
other  goddesses  made  a similar  attempt ; but  this  is  not  certain. 
There  is  no  mention  of  the  golden  apple  inscribed  “to  the 
fairest,”  which  in  the  later  story  was  the  original  cause  of  the 
dispute.  In  a surviving  fragment  of  the  Cypria 1 there  is  de- 
scribed an  elaborate  robing  of  Aphrodite  for  the  judgment  in 
garments  scented  with  flowers  ; and  it  may  be  that  the  prepara- 
tions of  the  other  goddesses  also  were  described. 

The  earliest  vases  which  represent  the  subject  are  of  b.c.  600 
or  thereabouts.  They  give  a merely  processional  scheme. 
Hermes,  distinguished  by  his  herald’s  staff,  advances,  followed 
by  the  three  goddesses  in  single  file;  they  are  draped  and  not 
distinguished  one  from  another.  Paris,  curiously  enough,  is 
not  always  to  be  found  ; and  when  he  is  present,  his  only  object 
seems  to  be  escape;  he  flies  and  Hermes  pursues,  or  Hermes 


1 No.  3 in  Kinkel’s  edition. 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


299 


grapples  with  him  in  the  fashion  of  a wrestler,  and  holds  him 
fast.  This  unwillingness  of  Paris  to  act  as  judge  is  strongly 
emphasized  by  the  painters.  The  Judgment  of  Paris  without 
Paris  seems  an  odd  thing;  but  what  the  artists  insist  upon  is 
the  journey  of  the  goddesses  under  the  convoy  of  Hermes,  who 
represents  the  will  of  the  gods,  to  Ida.  For  this  purpose  they 
adopt  a scheme  which  may  very  probably  originally  have  had 
another  meaning.  In  reliefs  from  the  sixth  century  onwards 
we  sometimes  find  Hermes  leading  a procession  of  nymphs 


Fig.  101. — Vase  at  Florence. 


across  the  field ; these  reliefs  were  dedications  set  up  in  the 
grottoes  and  caves  sacred  to  Pan  and  the  Nymphs.  The 
nymphs  are  usually  three  in  number,  and  early  art  represents 
them  as  draped.  It  is  natural  to  suppose  that  the  processional 
scheme  of  the  Judgment  of  Paris  on  vases  is  taken  from  a pro- 
cession of  nymphs  led  by  Hermes : but  we  cannot  convert  this 
probability  into  a certainty  because  we  have  no  nymph-reliefs 
of  so  early  a date  as  the  first  representations  of  the  procession 
of  the  three  goddesses. 

Fig.  101  from  a vase  at  Florence  gives  us  a representation  of 
the  processional  type,  with  slight  variations.  The  midmost 
of  the  goddesses  is  differentiated  from  the  others  by  the  ab- 
sence of  stars  from  her  dress.  Hermes  pursues  Paris,  who, 
bearded,  and  clad  in  chiton  and  long  cloak,  tries  to  escape. 


300 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


The  owl  beneath  the  legs  of  Hermes  is  merely  inserted  to  fill  a 
space,  as  are  the  two  figures  conversing  on  the  left,  unless  in- 
deed we  can  venture  to  identify  in  the  latter  Zeus  and  Themis, 
who  planned  the  whole  series  of  events  which  began  with  the 
Judgment  of  Paris. 

The  differentiation  of  Athena  is  soon  carried  further.  As 
she  is  an  armed  goddess  while  the  other  two  are  unarmed,  she 
naturally  separates  them  ; Hera  naturally  comes  first  and 
Aphrodite  third  ; though  the  fact  that  Aphrodite  was  victorious 
in  the  contest  induces  the  vase-painter  sometimes  to  place  her 
first ; and  occasionally  Athena  walks  first.  A dog  sometimes 
accompanies  the  procession ; he  is  the  dog  of  Paris,  and  marks 
the  rural  character  of  the  scene,  and  the  fact  that  Paris  was  a 
herdsman : but  this  dog  sometimes  walks  in  the  procession, 
instead  of  meeting  it. 

A curious  trace  of  the  influence  of  a received  type  is  to  be 
found  on  a black-figured  vase  1 where  Paris  precedes  the  pro- 
cession of  the  goddesses;  he  carries  a lyre  and  his  form  and 
drapery  are  those  of  Apollo.  The  artist  must  have  been  ac- 
quainted with  the  scheme  of  Apollo  leading  the  Muses,  and 
through  carelessness  copied  it  on  his  vase.  It  is  an  example  of 
the  contamination  of  one  artistic  scheme  by  another. 

In  the  vases  painted  by  the  great  Attic  vase-painters  of  the 
time  of  the  Persian  wars,  Euphronius,  Duris,  and  the  rest,  the 
scheme  is  retained,  but  we  have  much  additional  detail,  some- 
times with  a definite  meaning  and  sometimes  merely  for  the 
sake  of  artistic  variety.  This  furnishes  a parallel  to  what  we 
observe  in  sculpture  of  the  late  archaic  period,  in  which  we  have 
great  refinement  and  delicacy  in  detail ; but  new  types  do  not 
freely  appear  until  the  age  of  expansion  after  the  Persian  re- 
pulse. We  still  have  a procession  headed  by  Hermes,  and  ap- 
proaching Paris ; but  Paris  is  seated  amid  his  flocks,  and  the 
three  goddesses  carry  emblems  of  their  powers  and  functions. 

1 Gerhard,  Auserlesene  Vasenbilder , PI.  173. 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


301 


On  a vase  from  the  pottery  of  Hiero  (Fig.  102),  Paris  is  playing 
on  the  lyre,  while  his  goats  sport  about  him ; Aphrodite  is 
accompanied  by  four  floating  winged  figures,  various  forms  of 
Eros.  On  a vase  from  the  pottery  of  Brygus,  Paris,  with  head 


Fig.  102.  — Vase  of  Hiero. 

thrown  back,  is  singing  to  the  lyre  as  the  goddesses  approach. 
Later  the  cortege  of  the  deities  grows  more  elaborate.  On  the 
cover  of  a toilet  box  at  Copenhagen,1  Hera  travels  in  a chariot 
drawn  by  four  horses,  Athena  in  one  drawn  by  two  serpents, 
while  to  the  chariot  of  Aphrodite  two  winged  figures  of  Eros 
are  harnessed  (Fig.  103).  Perhaps  more  significant  is  a kylix 
at  Berlin  2 (Fig.  104)  on  which  Paris  appears  seated  between 

1 Dumont  et  Chaplain,  Vases  peints , PI.  X. 

2 Cat . Berlin,  2536.  Roscher,  Lexikon , III.,  p.  1615. 


302 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


the  columns  of  a stately  palace,  as  a king’s  son.  Each  of  the 
goddesses  holds  out  a small  figure,  Aphrodite  a winged  Eros, 
Athena  a helmet,  Hera  a small  lion.  It  may  be  that  these  are 


merely  attributes  of  the  deities,  but  more  probably  the  vase- 
painter  means  thus  to  suggest  that  each  tried  to  bribe  Paris  by 
a gift  appropriate  to  her.  We  have  seen  that  we  are  not  sure 
whether  this  offering  of  gifts  was  a feature  of  the  story  in  the 
Cyi>ria  or  not. 

(II)  Period  after  B.C.  1+50 

During  this  period  the  Judgment  of  Paris  figures  more  largely 
in  literature.  There  was  a Satyric  play  of  Sophocles  called 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


303 


“The  Judgment in  which  Paris  is  made  to  decide  between 
Aphrodite  and  Athena,  Hera  being  eliminated.  Possibly  the 
reason  for  this  elimination  may  be  only  technical,  as  more  than 
three  actors  could  not  hold  the  stage  at  once.  Or  the  omission 
may  have  been  purposeful.  In  any  case  it  would  somewhat 


alter  the  character  of  the  incident,  giving  it  a moral  not  unlike 
that  of  the  tale  told  by  Prodicus  of  the  choice  of  Heracles  be- 
tween Pleasure  and  Virtue. 

The  Judgment  is  mentioned  in  no  less  than  five  plays  of  Eurip- 
ides. In  the  Iphigeneia  in  Aulis  (1.  1289)  the  chorus  speaks 
of  the  coming  of  the  three  goddesses,  under  the  leading  of 
Hermes,  to  Paris  in  Mount  Ida,  and  each  of  the  three  is  spoken 
of  as  relying  not  on  a bribe,  but  on  her  exalted  function  — Hera 
on  her  queenly  position,  Pallas  on  her  warlike  power,  Aphrodite 
on  her  mastery  of  love.  In  the  Helena , Helen  (1.  18)  speaks  of 
the  goddesses  as  vying  in  beauty.  But  in  the  Troades  (1.  920) 
Euripides  adopts  a version  of  the  myth,  which  represents  each 
goddess  as  trying  to  win  the  judge  with  gifts.  Pallas  promises 
that  at  the  head  of  his  Phrygians  he  shall  conquer  Greece ; 
Hera,  that  he  shall  have  a wide  kingdom  in  Asia  and  Europe ; 
while  Aphrodite  promises  the  person  of  Helen.  In  a fourth 


304 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


play,  the  Andromache  (1.  275),  the  chorus  dwells  on  the  prepa- 
ration of  the  goddesses  for  the  judgment  by  washings  in  the 
springs  of  Ida. 

It  is  not  only  the  poets  who  touch  upon  the  myth,  but  also 
some  of  the  prose-writers.  Isocrates,  writing  in  the  earlier 
part  of  the  fourth  century,  speaks  of  it.  In  the  contest  of 
beauty,  he  writes:1  “Hera  offered  Paris  the  sovereignty  of  all 
Asia,  Athena  victory  in  war,  Aphrodite  Helen  as  a bride.  Paris, 
not  being  able  to  give  judgment  on  the  physical  charms  of  the 
three,  and  being  dazzled  by  their  beauty,  was  obliged  to  go  by 
their  promises,  and  chose  the  possession  of  Helen  rather  than 
all  else.”  Of  the  way  in  which  the  story  of  the  Judgment  is 
treated  by  the  writers  of  the  Hellenistic  age  we  can  best  judge 
from  the  works  of  the  Roman  poets  who  copy  them,  Ovid, 
Propertius,  and  the  rest.  The  version  generally  accepted  is 
that  of  Isocrates,  that  Paris  was  set  to  judge  the  goddesses,  who 
appeared  naked  before  him ; but  found  himself  unable  to  com- 
pare such  heavenly  charms;  whereupon  each  tried  to  entice 
him  with  promises,  and  Aphrodite  was  most  successful. 

The  vase-paintings  belonging  to  the  period  after  b.c.  450 
introduce  changes ; but  it  is  noteworthy  that  the  changes  do 
not,  if  we  except  one  vase,  show  a development  of  idea,  but 
they  tend  rather  to  overlay  the  original  scheme  with  what  is 
irrelevant.  The  order  of  the  goddesses  is  broken  up ; they  are 
sometimes  grouped  about  Paris  instead  of  approaching  him  in 
procession.  Attributes  are  increased ; and  fresh  personalities 
are  introduced  somewhat  irrelevantly. 

The  one  vase  which  is  the  exception  gives  us  a charming  pic- 
ture (Fig.  105).  What  is  here  represented  is  not  the  actual 
Judgment,  nor  the  procession  to  Ida,  but  the  preparations  of 
the  goddesses.  We  have  seen  that  in  the  Cypria  the  toilet 
of  Aphrodite  is  described  ; and  in  the  Andromache  we  read  how 

1 Encomium  of  Helen , par.  46. 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


305 


Fig.  105.  — Vase  of  the  Basilicata. 


306 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


the  three  goddesses  bathed  themselves  in  the  streams  of  Ida. 
On  the  vase  we  have  a more  delicate  discrimination.  Hera 
holds  a mirror  and  by  the  help  of  it  ad- 
justs her  veil;  Aphrodite,  with  Eros  as 
a helper,  decks  herself  with  jewels;  but 
Athena  is  content  with  laying  aside  hel- 
met and  shield,  and  bathing  her  arms  in 
a spring.  She  reminds  us  of  the  line  of 
Tennyson  — “ Judge  thou  me  by  what  I 
am ; so  shalt  thou  find  me  fairest.” 

Here  we  have  decided  improvement. 
But  the  vase-paintings  more  often  show 
& decadence;  and  meaning  is  rather  lost 
J than  gained.  For  example,  on  a vase 
J of  the  Sabouroff  Collection,1  Athena 
stands  behind  Paris ; Victory  appears, 
® but  she  seems  to  be  advancing  rather 
g towards  Hera,  who  is  identified  by  a lofty 
J>  crown,  than  towards  Aphrodite  (Fig.  106). 
^ In  another  vase-painting  of  the  period  2 
Eros,  instead  of  being  a small  satellite 
2 of  his  mother,  in  which  function  his 
2 presence  would  be  tolerable,  is  as  large  as 
the  two  deities,  Athena  and  Aphrodite, 
between  whom  he  stands.  Otherwise  on 
this  vase  the  old  processional  order  is  re- 
tained. On  another  vase  3 of  the  early 
fourth  century  the  order  is  varied.  Paris 
is  seated  at  the  left  with  Athena  (or 
perhaps  Oenone)  behind  him ; before 
him  are  Aphrodite  attended  by  Eros, 
and  Hera  accompanied  by  her  daughter 
Hebe. 

1 PI.  61.  2 Ann.  d.  Inst.,  1833,  Tan.  E.  3 Jour.  Hell.  Studies,  XI.,  PL  4. 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


307 


One  of  the  most  elaborate  late  fifth-century  vases  1 places 
Hermes  and  Paris,  clad  in  the  Phrygian  dress,  in  the  foreground, 
and  groups  the  three  goddesses  round  him,  with  Zeus,  Eris,  and 
the  Sun-god  above.  The  determining  cause  of  Paris’  Judgment 
is  hinted  at : a little  Eros  flutters  by  his  shoulder,  and  is  evi- 
dently whispering  to  him  of  Helen. 

In  the  large  and  elaborate  vases  of  late  fine  style  which  reach 
us  from  Italy,  but  some  of  which  seem  to  be  Athenian,  we  have 
further  modifications  and  developments.  As  a result  of  the 
working  of  the  Polygnotan  notion  of  perspective,  the  figures  of 
the  picture  are  no  longer  in  one  plane.  Paris,  who  is  seated, 
and  Hermes  form  the  centre,  and  the  goddesses  with  their  de- 
pendants and  ministrants  are  grouped  around  them,  and  to  these 
are  often  added  other  figures  whose  appositeness  does  not  ap- 
pear. On  one  vase  2 we  have  Eros,  Himeros,  and  Pothos,  and 
an  unexplained  youth  riding  on  a dolphin.  On  another  3 we 
have  Eris  looking  down  from  a hill  in  the  background ; but 
there  are  also  present  Zeus,  Clymene,  Eutychia,  and  Helios 
driving  his  chariot.  Paris  gives  up  his  Hellenic  appearance 
and  wears  the  Phrygian  dress  with  long  sleeves  and  trousers. 
In  these  cases  we  have  a series  of  artistic  variations  on  the 
original  theme,  but  no  addition  to  the  meaning. 

In  a few  vases  of  this  class,  however,  we  have  elements  which 
tell  of  thought  or  of  learning.  In  one  scene,  we  see  Eris  and 
Themis,  distinguished  by  inscriptions,  conversing  together  in 
the  background.4  Eris,  of  course,  comes  in  naturally,  but 
Themis  makes  one  pause.  And  although  names  are  added 
almost  at  random  on  vases  of  this  age,  it  seems  likely  that  the 
painter  was  thinking  of  the  beginning  of  the  epic  Cypria,  where 
Zeus  and  Themis  discuss  the  excessive  multiplication  of  men  on 
the  earth,  and  set  moving  the  course  of  events  which  leads 
through  the  Judgment  of  Paris  to  the  Trojan  war. 

1 At  Carlsruhe,  Overbeck,  Gal.  hero.  Bildwerke , Pl.  11. 

2 Gerhard,  Apulische  V asenbilder , PI.  C. 

3 Ibid.,  Pl.  D.  4 Wiener  Vorlegeblatter , A.  XI. 


308 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Another  curious  innovation  in  some  vases  of  the  Italian 
potteries  1 is  the  transfer  of  the  office  of  arbiter  between  the 
deities  from  Paris  to  Apollo,  who  is  represented  as  seated  by 
his  Delphic  Omphalos  while  Zeus  addresses  him.  This  curious 
change  in  the  referee  has  naturally  puzzled  archaeologists,  and 
some  have  conjectured  the  existence  of  an  alternative  story, 
according  to  which  the  oracle  of  Apollo,  the  highest  court  of 
appeal  in  Greece,  was  the  judge  appointed  to  award  the  prize 
of  beauty.  It  seems,  however,  very  unlikely  that  any  such 
story  could  be  of  really  early  date.  In  Plato’s  Republic  2 there 
is  a phrase  which  seems  to  have  a bearing  on  the  question. 
Socrates  there  says  that  among  other  Homeric  stories  which 
should  be  rejected  is  that  concerning  the  strife  of  the  goddesses 
and  the  decision  which  came  through  Zeus  and  Themis.  Now 
Themis  at  Delphi  inherited  the  oracle  of  the  Earth  (Ge),  and 
was  in  turn  succeeded  by  Apollo;  so  possibly  the  phrase  in 
Plato  may  have  reference  to  some  Delphic  decision.  But  it 
seems  more  probable  that  Plato  is  referring  only  to  the  share 
which  Themis  had  from  the  beginning  in  the  whole  series  of 
events,  and  that  the  vase-painter,  with  that  little  knowledge 
which  is  always  dangerous,  merely  inserted  Apollo  in  the  scene 
as  the  general  judge  of  difficult  questions. 

In  Pompeian  paintings  the  judgment  of  Paris  is  a not  rare 
subject.  In  these  the  scene  is  again  simpler,  usually  confined 
to  the  main  actors.  Aphrodite  is  sometimes  naked,  or  all  but 
naked,  but  the  other  goddesses  retain  their  robes  and  their  dig- 
nity. The  poets  take  greater  liberties  with  them  than  the 
painters.  In  a painting  of  the  baths  of  Titus,  however,  we 
have  a triad  of  undraped  deities  standing  before  Paris. 

Taking  the  vases  which  represent  the  Judgment,  not  as  a series, 
but  one  by  one,  some  eminent  archaeologists  have  fallen  into 
the  mistake  of  too  closely  connecting  them  with  myth  and 
literature.  Thus  Stephani  of  St.  Petersburg  comments  on  a 

2p.  379  E. 


1 Wiener  Vorlegeblatter , A.  X.  ; E.  XI. 


XVIII 


THE  ART  HISTORY  OF  A MYTH 


309 


black-figured  vase  on  which,  besides  Paris  and  Hermes,  only 
Athena  and  one  other  goddess  are  present.1  This  vase  shows 
the  usual  processional  scheme,  and  the  abridgment  of  the  design 
for  economy  of  space  or  time  is  a familiar  phenomenon  in  vases. 
But  Stephani  wants  to  see  the  influence  of  the  above-men- 
tioned drama  of  Sophocles,  wherein  Paris  has  to  decide  between 
Athena  and  Aphrodite.  The  vase  dates  from  nearly  a century 
earlier  than  the  play  of  Sophocles;  but  apart  from  this  con- 
clusive objection,  the  faultiness  of  Stephanies  method  is  obvious. 

Welcker  again  wanted  to  infer  from  the  prominence  in  vase- 
paintings  of  the  processional  scheme  that  the  journey  of  the 
goddesses  to  Mount  Ida  was  an  important  feature  in  the  Cypria. 
Here  again  we  have  a complete  misconception.  According  to 
the  earlier  vase-painters,  the  procession  of  deities  is  not  a pre- 
liminary to  the  judgment,  but  is  a manner  of  representing  the 
judgment  itself ; they  know  no  other.  The  scheme  of  the  judg- 
ment is  gradually  developed  out  of  the  processional  scheme,  and 
there  are  almost  identical  designs  in  which  Paris  is  standing  or 
seated,  present  or  absent. 

Nothing  could  show  more  clearly  than  does  this  brief  history 
how  poetry  and  art  in  Greece  take  quite  independent  lines. 
They  follow  parallel  courses,  but  there  can  seldom  be  traced 
any  line  of  influence  running  from  one  to  the  other,  apart  from 
the  influence  exercised  by  the  Homeric  and  cyclic  poems.  The 
most  notable  exception  to  the  rule  is  to  be  found  in  the  influence 
of  the  Euripidean  dramas  on  the  vase-painting  of  South  Italy 
in  the  Hellenistic  age.  And  even  here,  as  we  have  seen,  the 
influence  seldom  reaches  beyond  suggesting  a subject  or  giving 
hints  as  to  its  treatment.  Illustration,  in  the  modern  sense  of 
the  word,  was,  as  I observed  at  the  outset,  unknown  in  Greece. 

1 Gerhard,  Auserlesene  V asenbilder , PL  172. 


CHAPTER  XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 

Sculpture  in  relation  to  history  may  be  considered  in  two 
very  different  ways  : first,  we  may  inquire  how  the  actual  polit- 
ical history  of  Greece  is  reflected  in  the  productions  of  the  sculp- 
tor ; second,  how  the  course  of  sculpture  runs  parallel  to  the 
history  of  the  Greek  spirit  in  other  fields  of  activity. 

It  might  be  supposed  that  the  idealizing  tendency  of  Greek 
art  would  make  it  unsuitable  for  recording  actual  facts  of  his- 
tory — the  details  of  a battle,  the  circumstances  of  a civic  suc- 
cess, and  the  like.  There  is  some  justification  for  this  view, 
but  it  must  not  be  expressed  in  too  absolute  a way.  The  walls 
of  Greek  stoae  abounded  in  representations  which  were  in  inten- 
tion historic.  Micon,  or  Panaenus,  painted  in  a stoa  at  Athens 
a representation  of  the  battle  of  Marathon,  and  Euphranor 
painted  the  cavalry  battle  at  Mantinea  in  which  Epaminondas 
took  part.  Our  knowledge,  however,  of  surviving  Greek  monu- 
ments forbids  us  to  think  that  these  would  be  realistic  repre- 
sentations of  “the  delights  and  the  horrors  of  war.” 

In  the  friezes  of  the  beautiful  Ionic  monument  of  Xanthus, 
the  so-called  Nereid  monument,  brought  to  the  British  Museum 
by  Sir  Charles  Fellowes,  we  find  a sculptural  record  of  an  actual 
siege  of  some  unknown  city  in  Lycia  or  Caria.1  Several  scenes 
are  portrayed,  — the  assailants  advancing  against  the  city  and 
mounting  scaling  ladders  to  the  assault,  the  general  of  the  be- 
siegers sitting  in  state  to  receive  envoys  from  the  city,  the 
flight  or  the  captivity  of  the  citizens.  But  though  the  scenes 

1 Mon.  d.  Inst.,  X.,  Pis.  11-18,  and  the  histories  of  sculpture. 

310 


chap,  xix  ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


311 


show  us  the  course  of  events,  there  is  nothing  in  them  to  help 
us  to  identify  the  besieger  or  the  besieged  city.  The  intention 
is  to  represent  the  generic  rather  than  the  individual. 

On  the  great  sarcophagus  found  at  Sidon  there  are  depicted 
two  scenes  from  the  life  of  Alexander  the  Great  — one  of  his 
battles  and  a lion  hunt  in  which  he  takes  part.  We  will  analyze 
the  former  scene  (Fig.  107) ; nothing  could  give  one  a clearer 
notion  of  the  mingled  precision  and  ideality  of  Greek  sculpture. 
To  begin  with,  there  is  nothing  loose  or  inaccurate  in  the  rep- 
resentation of  dress,  armour,  and  the  like.  The  Persian 
cavalry  and  archers,  the  Macedonian  horse  and  foot,  the  Greek 
peltasts,  are  all  armed  and  clad  in  different  ways,  and  one  can 
tell  at  a glance  to  which  branch  of  the  army  each  figure  be- 
longs. And  each  fights  in  his  own  way.  Of  course  at  no 
actual  spot  in  the  battle-field  would  different  troops  be  thus 
mingled  in  picturesque  grouping : the  scene  is  not  a realistic 
excerpt  from  the  battle,  but  an  idealized  summary  of  it.  Let 
us  briefly  analyze  it,  figure  by  figure.  On  the  left,  Alexander, 
distinguished  by  his  lion-skin  helmet,  charges  in  person,  over- 
throwing with  his  lance  a horse  and  a rider,  who  had  already 
turned  to  fly  from  his  impetuous  attack.  At  the  opposite  end, 
an  elderly  officer,  probably  the  veteran  Parmenio,  hurls  a Per- 
sian general  opposed  to  him  from  his  horse  into  the  arms  of  a 
foot-soldier  who  hurries  up.  In  the  midst  of  the  composition, 
a third  horseman,  a masterly  figure,  strikes  down  a Persian 
foot-soldier.  To  the  left  of  the  central  group,  a Macedonian 
foot-guard  rushes  impetuously  on  a Persian  foe.  To  the  right, 
a light-armed  Greek  boldly  meets  the  charge  of  a Persian  rider. 
Below,  one  sees  two  Persian  archers  drawing  their  bows,  and 
five  bodies  of  dead  warriors,  of  whom  four  are  Persian  and  one 
is  Greek. 

The  Persians  in  the  scene  are  more  numerous,  twelve  to  six, 
yet  their  defeat  is  clearly  shown.  A third  of  their  number  has 
already  fallen,  and  others  are  falling.  They  cannot  resist  the 


312 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Fig,  107.  — Sarcophagus  from  Sidon. 


XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


313 


charge  of  the  heavy-armed  Macedonian  foot,  still  less  the 
onslaught  of  the  cavalry  of  the  guard.  What  a Greek  eye 
would  have  at  once  observed,  and  dwelt  on  with  satisfaction, 
is  the  wonderful  symmetry  of  the  composition.  Side  balances 
side  and  group  group  to  perfection,  yet  without  any  slavish 
or  pedantic  correspondence.  The  modern  eye  would  scarcely 
notice  the  symmetry  till  it  was  pointed  out,  but  it  will  bear 
the  closest  examination.  Every  figure  is  carefully  worked  out 
in  reference  to  the  whole  scheme,  and  the  story  of  victory  and 
defeat  is  admirably  told.  To  Alexander  the  Persian  foe  dares 
not  even  offer  resistance ; Parmenio  has  easily  overthrown  his 
opponent,  but  the  younger  captain  in  the  middle  still  meets 
resistance.  It  is  fair  to  judge  that  among  the  events  of  the 
battle  portrayed  were  a charge  of  Macedonian  foot  on  Persian 
infantry,  another  of  Persian  cavalry  on  light-armed  Greek 
infantry ; while  the  decisive  move  was  the  charge  of  Alexander 
and  his  cavalry.  Thus  the  composition,  while  admirable 
in  itself  and  perfect  in  detail,  really  tells  us  more  of  the  tale 
of  the  battle  than  could  any  realistic  extract.  It  must  be  ex- 
plained that  the  whole  relief  is  really  continuous,  and  only  for 
convenience  divided  in  our  engraving. 

This  sarcophagus  is  a wonderful  masterpiece;  but  it  is  a 
somewhat  late  product  of  Greek  art,  and  Attic  sculpture  at  an 
earlier  time  took  an  even  more  ideal  line  in  the  representation 
of  history.  Of  this  a better  example  could  scarcely  be  found 
than  the  sculptural  decoration  of  the  Parthenon,  in  which  may 
be  traced  in  an  Attic  rendering  the  whole  history  of  the  city 
of  Athens  from  its  mythical  foundation  onward;  the  history 
as  it  existed  in  the  mind  of  the  gods  rather  than  as  it  existed 
visibly  on  the  earth. 

The  history  begins  with  the  eastern  pediment.  Here  was 
represented  the  birth  of  Athena.  What  was  the  original  mean- 
ing of  the  strange  story  of  the  birth  ? Why  the  goddess  leaped 
full-armed  from  the  head  of  her  father,  it  is  not  easy  to  say. 


314 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


In  this  matter  there  are  various  schools  of  interpretation.  An- 
thropologists of  the  school  of  Mr.  Lang  will  lay  stress  upon 
the  monstrosity  of  the  tale  that  Zeus  swallowed  Metis  when 
Athena  was  in  her  womb,  and  then  produced  the  child  himself, 
and  compare  the  still  more  barbarous  tales  of  a similar  bearing 
which  come  to  us  from  savage  races  in  the  South  Seas  and 
Africa  and  America.  Those  interpreters  who  lay  emphasis 
on  the  physical  basis  of  myth  will  see  in  Athena  the  sudden 
dawn  of  the  South,  leaping  up  from  the  underworld,  or  the 
lightning  springing  from  the  cloven  cloud.  But  we  must  not 
confuse,  as  many  of  these  investigators  do,  the  question  of  ori- 
gin with  the  question  of  meaning.  What  it  is  of  importance 
that  we  should  know  is  what  meaning  attached  to  the  myth  at 
Athens  in  the  fifth  century.  To  the  men  wdio  built  the  Par- 
thenon, Athena  was  no  phenomenon  of  savage  myth,  nor  was 
she  the  dawn  nor  the  lightning,  but  something  nearer  and 
dearer  and  more  spiritual  by  far.  She  was,  as  I have  already 
pointed  out,  the  embodiment  of  the  spiritual  personality  of 
Athens  itself.  And  so  when  the  goddess  is  born,  Athens,  too, 
is  born  in  a high  and  ideal  sense.  Because  she  lives,  Athens 
must  also  live.  And  she  springs  from  the  head  of  Zeus  be- 
cause the  city  arises  out  of  the  clear  and  determinate  counsel 
of  the  gods,  and  is  born  to  occupy  a certain  sphere  and  to  do 
a certain  work  in  Hellas  and  the  world.  She  is  born  full- 
armed  because  without  arms  no  purpose  could  come  to  fruition 
in  the  early  world. 

In  the  western  pediment  the  tale  is  carried  on.  The  destiny 
of  the  nascent  city  and  of  the  Attic  land  is  to  be  determined. 
Is  Athens  to  become  a votary  of  Poseidon?  Is  she  to  live  in 
the  ways  of  the  sea,  to  be  devoted  to  commerce,  to  strive  after 
a prosperity  which  is  mainly  material  ? In  part  she  must  take 
this  course.  Material  necessities  control  her  purposes,  as  they 
do  the  purposes  of  all  cities.  Men  must  live,  and  to  live  in  the 
not  too  fertile  Attic  land  they  must  increase  their  natural  re- 


XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


315 


sources  by  manufacture  and  by  trade.  But  still  the  city  is  not 
to  be  the  city  of  Poseidon.  In  spite  of  physical  necessities  she 
shall  remain  true  to  her  higher  calling.  Even  her  material 
development  shall  be  controlled  by  Athena  Ergane,  the  mistress 
of  the  workers.  If  she  is  to  grow  wealthy,  it  shall  not  be  by 
merely  supplying  the  grosser  needs  of  men.  Her  main  pro- 
ductions shall  be  connected  with  their  higher  activities.  She 
shall  produce  the  finest  oil  to  make  supple  the  limbs  of  athletes 
and  to  feed  the  lamps  which  burn  in  the  presence  of  the  gods. 
Her  honey  and  her  figs  shall  have  something  of  the  delicacy 
and  the  charm  of  the  light  Athenian  air.  She  shall  supply  the 
most  beautiful  marble  and  the  best  wood  for  building  and  for 
carving.  And  one  of  her  chief  productions  shall  be  those 
painted  vases,  in  which  she  has  almost  a monopoly  in  the  an- 
cient world,  and  which  have  been  preserved  to  us  in  such 
abundance  in  the  tombs  of  Italy  and  Sicily  and  Cyrene. 

And  beside  and  above  all  this,  Athens  is  to  be  the  city  of 
arms  and  of  courage,  of  song  and  the  drama,  of  thought  and 
wisdom.  What  Athena  is  in  Olympus,  Athens  is  to  be  on 
earth,  the  favourite  of  Zeus,  foremost  in  valour  and  in  wisdom, 
quickest  to  read  the  divine  purpose  and  most  persistent  in 
carrying  it  out;  the  best  visible  embodiment  of  the  divine 
thought  which  lies  at  the  root  of  transitory  phenomena. 

The  pediments  thus  set  before  us  the  destinies  of  Athens. 
In  the  metopes  we  see  the  city  set  about  the  accomplishment 
of  her  destiny  in  spite  of  many  hindrances’  and  various  foes. 
The  story  of  the  development  of  order  out  of  chaos,  and  civili- 
zation out  of  barbarism,  is  there  presented  to  us  in  four  chap- 
ters. First  there  is  the  battle  of  the  Gods  and  Giants,  the  issue 
of  which  decided  whether  the  world  was  to  be  governed  by  the 
untamed  forces  of  nature,  storm  and  earthquake,  lightning  and 
cloud,  or  to  come  under  the  sway  of  an  orderly  and  organized 
Olympus,  with  Zeus  at  its  head.  Among  all  the  combatants 
in  that  memorable  strife,  none  was  more  prominent  than 


316 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Athena,  who,  clad  in  shining  arms,  overthrew  her  opponent, 
Enceladus,  and  buried  him  under  Etna.  In  this  combat  Athens 
is  represented  by  her  goddess.  But  in  the  second  and  third 
chapters  of  the  history  it  is  the  ancestors  of  the  people  of 
Athens,  under  their  ancestral  leader,  Theseus,  who  appear. 
Their  foes  are  respectively  the  monstrous  Centaurs,  compounded 
of  horse  and  man,  and  the  monstrous  Amazons,  compounded  of 
man  and  woman.  By  overthrowing  the  Centaurs,  Theseus  and 
his  men  made  it  certain  that  Greece  should  not  be  the  prey  of 
the  barbarous  races  of  the  North,  stealers  of  boys  and  women, 
drunken  and  brutal,  but  should  be  able  to  grow  and  develop 
in  peace.  What  is  meant  by  the  repulse  of  the  Amazons  is 
not  so  clear,  nor  can  it  be  so  briefly  stated.  But  I think  those 
are  at  bottom  right  who  regard  the  combats  of  Greeks  and 
Amazons  as  a reflex  in  art  of  the  early  clashing  of  the  primi- 
tive races  of  Asia  and  Greece  with  their  female  divinities,  and 
the  Aryan  invaders  from  the  North,  the  Greeks  and  their 
cousins  the  Phrygians  and  the  Carians,  with  male  deities  and 
patriarchal  government. 

In  the  battles  with  Amazon  and  Centaur  as  represented  in 
art,  Theseus  is  conspicuous.  In  myth  he  is  represented  as 
aiding  Peirithous  in  his  resistance  to  the  Centaurs  when  they 
attacked  him  and  his  bride  in  her  Thessalian  home;  and  as 
driving  back  from  Attica  the  invading  Amazons  under  their 
queen  Hippolyta.  We  are  unable  to  say  how  much  actual 
history  lies  under  these  myths,  whether  the  Athenians  in  the 
prehistoric  age  really  took  a large  share  in  the  wars  against 
the  aboriginal  people  of  Greece  and  against  the  rude  Thracian 
tribes  of  the  North.  But  whether  the  myths  embody  actual 
history  or  not,  they  certainly  embody  ideal  history.  If  they 
do  not  tell  us  what  really  took  place,  they  tell  us  at  least  what 
was  supposed  to  have  taken  place. 

In  the  monumental  art  of  Greece  one  is  somewhat  surfeited 
with  the  Centaur  and  the  Amazon.  To  a modern  eye  these 


XIX  ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY  317 

compound  and  incongruous  forms  are  unpleasing ; and  one 
greatly  regrets  that  the  Greeks  did  not  aim  more  at  variety. 
Probably  Amazon  and  Centaur  were  perpetuated  and  stereo- 
typed in  Greek  art  for  purely  artistic  reasons,  because  they 
offered  the  artist  an  unlimited  number  of  defined  and  graceful 
problems  in  pose  and  composition.  In  time  the  love  of  artistic 
problem  apart  from  meaning  became  the  ruin  of  Greek  art 
just  as  its  literary  parallel,  the  love  of  graceful  phrase  and 
elegant  composition,  became  the  bane  of  Greek  history  and 
philosophy.  But  let  us  go  back  beyond  later  developments  to 
the  splendid  freshness  of  art  in  the  fifth  century,  and  we  shall 
see  that  the  subjects  of  these  metopes  had  not  yet  lost  their 
meaning,  that  they  still  spoke  to  the  intellect  as  well  as  to  the 
eye  and  the  taste. 

The  fourth  group  of  metopes  takes  us  out  of  the  realm  of 
pure  myth  into  something  more  nearly  approaching  history, 
and  brings  us  to  events  which  passed  in  Greece  for  actual  and 
prosaic  fact.  They  represent  the  taking  of  Troy,1  the  vengeance 
wrought  by  united  Greece  on  the  city  which  had  sheltered 
him  who  had  violated  hospitality  and  carried  away  the  wife 
of  Menelaus,  king  of  Sparta.  As  every  reader  of  Herodotus 
knows,  the  Greeks  looked  on  their  successive  contests  with 
the  powers  of  the  Asiatic  mainland  as  the  acts  in  a drama,  the 
drama  of  Hellene  against  barbarian.  The  final  act  of  the 
drama,  the  overthrow  of  the  Persian  Empire  by  Alexander, 
was  in  the  far  future  when  the  Parthenon  was  built.  But 
already  Marathon  and  Salamis  and  Plataea  had  been  won,  and 
already  the  pride  of  Asia  had  been  severely  checked  by  the 
Athenian  army  and  fleet.  These  victories  were  quite  recent 
in  the  time  of  Pericles.  In  a sense  the  Parthenon  might  be 
said  to  be  a memorial  of  them.  Yet  it  is  not  them  that 

1 It  is  disputed  by  some  archaeologists  whether  this  is  the  subject  of  any 
metopes,  and  the  deplorable  condition  of  the  sculpture  prevents  us  from  being 
sure ; but  it  is  more  than  probable. 


318 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Pheidias  chose  to  depict,  but  the  earlier  battles  at  Ilium.  This 
is  a very  good  illustration  of  the  difference  between  the  ancient 
and  the  modern  point  of  view,  and  a good  example  of  the 
passion  for  the  type  rather  than  the  individual,  which  is  so 
marked  a feature  of  the  best  Greek  art.  We  could  scarcely 
imagine  any  way  of  commemorating  a victory  which  did  not 
give  prominence  to  the  generals  to  whom  it  was  due.  Yet, 
when  one  comes  to  think  of  it,  that  way  of  regarding  matters 
is  not  really  either  artistic  or  pious.  It  is  not  artistic,  because 
it  concentrates  attention  on  portraits  which  are  not  always 
really  beautiful  to  contemplate.  And  it  is  not  pious,  because 
it  attributes  victory  to  the  skill  and  valour  of  individuals 
rather  than  to  the  favour  of  Heaven  and  the  destinies  of  races. 
Such,  at  least,  is  the  Greek  view. 

These  four  series  of  metopes  bring  the  history  of  Athens 
down  to  the  time  when  the  Parthenon  was  erected.  And  the 
frieze  which  ran  like  a wreath  round  the  top  of  the  temple 
carries  on  the  history  not  into  the  future,  but  into  the  realm 
of  cultus  and  religion.  As  the  warlike  activities  of  the  Athe- 
nians occupy  the  metopes,  so  their  peaceful  activity  finds  full 
expression  in  the  representation  of  the  Panathenaic  festival, 
the  crown  of  the  religious  life  of  the  city. 

The  intention  followed  in  this  glorious  frieze  — quite  one  of 
the  most  interesting  of  all  works  of  ancient  sculpture  — is 
to  be  clearly  traced.  To  begin  with,  there  was,  of  course,  no 
notion  of  any  literal  or  naturalist  copy  of  the  actual  scene; 
everything  is  typical.  The  most  striking  features  of  the 
Panathenaic  procession  are  brought  out,  but  in  a thoroughly 
harmonious  and  artistic,  a somewhat  conventional,  way.  Some 
writers  of  the  last  generation,  such  as  Karl  Botticher,  were  so 
much  struck  with  this  predominance  of  the  idea  over  the  fact, 
that  they  maintained  the  representation  to  be  not  of  the  actual 
procession,  but  of  a partial  rehearsal  for  it  — a wonderful 
instance  of  learned  blindness  and  want  of  understanding.  In 


XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


319 


the  next  place  it  has  been  pointed  out  that  the  animals  brought 
for  sacrifice  are  not  the  same  in  the  north  and  the  south  parts 
of  the  frieze.  In  the  north  frieze  they  are  cows  and  sheep,  in 
the  south  frieze,  cows  only.  Now  cows  were  sacrificed  on  the 
occasion  to  Athena  by  the  Athenians  themselves ; but  the  Athe- 
nian cleruchi  settled  in  other  lands  sent  more  varied  offerings 
— both  oxen  and  sheep.  Thus  it  would  seem  that  the  sculptor 
meant  to  insist  on  the  participation  of  the  colonists  of  Athens, 
as  well  as  of  those  who  dwelt  at  home,  in  the  festival  of  Athena. 
His  view  takes  in  not  Athens  only,  but  the  Athenian  Empire. 
And  in  one  group  of  figures  he  seems  to  go  even  beyond  the 
dominions  of  the  city.  At  the  east  end  of  the  temple  there  is 
the  group  of  seated  deities,  who  await  the  approach  of  the 
procession.  The  festival  belongs  to  Athena,  but  all  the  great 
deities  of  Greece  are  present  as  her  guests,  she  being  the  hostess. 
I do  not  think  it  is  fanciful  to  find  in  this  grouping  a reflection 
of  the  noblest  of  the  ideas  of  Pericles,  that  of  the  unity  of  Greece. 
Athens  was,  in  his  view,  to  be  dominant ; but  she  was  not  to 
stand  alone.  Her  relation  to  the  other  states  of  Greece  was  not 
to  be  the  same  as  her  relation  to  the  hated  barbarian.  Beneath 
the  shield  of  Athena  all  the  cities  of  Greece  were  to  find  refuge, 
and  in  return  they  were  to  contribute  to  their  patroness  both 
tribute  and  honour.  Could  this  idea  be  better  expressed  than 
by  depicting  all  the  chief  deities  of  Greece  as  assembled  at  the 
festival  of  Athena,  under  her  presidency,  and  waiting  to  receive 
the  long  array  of  the  citizens  of  Athens  and  the  colonists  with 
their  respective  offerings  ? 

Shall  we  say,  then,  that  it  is  in  the  main  religious  ideas  or 
patriotic  ideas  which  are  incorporated  in  the  sculptural  deco- 
ration of  the  Parthenon  ? This  is  a question  which  scarcely 
admits  of  an  answer,  for  at  Athens  the  cultus  of  Athena  was 
so  closely  connected  with  the  pride  in  and  love  of  her  city  that 
the  two  could  scarcely  be  separated.  In  celebrating  the  birth 
and  victory  of  their  goddess,  the  Athenians  glorified  their  city ; 


320 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


and  in  recording  the  exploits  of  their  ancestors,  they  glorified 
Athena.  Finally,  in  commemorating  the  Panathenaic  festival, 
they  put  on  an  ideal  level  the  relations  of  Athens  and  the 
Athenian  Empire  with  the  protecting  deity.  Patriotism  and  re- 
ligion were  but  two  phases  of  the  same  feelings  and  aspirations. 

We  may  take  a few  more  of  the  Greek  dedications,  which 
show  a similar  point  of  view.  At  Delphi  the  Athenians  dedi- 
cated a great  bronze  group  in  memory  of  Marathon,  and  it  is 
instructive  to  see  of  what  figures  it  was  composed.  First  and 
foremost  were  Apollo  and  Athena,  representing  the  divine 
favour,  without  which  the  battle  would  never  have  been  won. 
Next  were  portrayed  the  ancestral  heroes  of  the  Attic  tribes, 
every  tribe  and  every  soldier  being  thus  personified  in  a 
mythical  representative.  Finally,  as  a rare  and  exceptional 
honour,  the  general  Miltiades  was  introduced. 

A similar  religious  and  idealizing  tendency  is  equally  conspic- 
uous in  literature.  In  the  story  as  told  by  Herodotus,  the  gods 
play  a considerable  part,  and  when  Aeschylus,  who  had  him- 
self fought  at  Salamis,  determined  to  represent  on  the  Athenian 
stage  the  victory  of  Greece  over  Persia,  he  uses  every  means  to 
avoid  drawing  down  the  combat  to  a too  realistic  level.  This 
was  not  easy,  as  the  Persian  ships  and  the  Median  chivalry 
were  sights  familiar  to  many  of  the  audience.  To  represent 
them  wrongly  would  be  impossible,  to  represent  them  literally 
would  not  only  overtax  the  very  simple  stage  arrangements  of 
the  Attic  theatre,  but  also  transgress  its  main  ideas.  So 
Aeschylus  lays  the  scene  of  his  Persians  in  Persia  itself,  and 
the  battle  of  Salamis  is  merely  described  by  a messenger  who 
arrives  from  the  sea,  and  tells  Atossa  what  has  come  to  pass. 
But  he  does  not  dwell  on  the  achievements  of  Greek  heroes; 
he  does  not  even  name  the  leaders ; his  treatment  of  the  sub- 
ject is  purely  ethical.  Aeschylus  pays  the  victory  of  Salamis 
the  great  compliment  of  treating  it  in  his  play  as  if  it  had  been 


XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


321 


one  of  the  divinely  ordained  triumphs  of  mythical  heroes  of 
the  Greek  race.  To  the  modern  individualist  mind  it  seems 
that  the  honour  ought  to  belong  to  one  man  or  another  man; 
but  that  is  not  the  Greek  view.  However,  at  a later  time, 
individualism  won  more  way,  so  that  when  Lysander  set  up  at 
Delphi  the  trophy  which  commemorated  the  taking  of  Athens, 
he  did  insert  in  it  the  portraits  of  his  sea-captains,  and  Posei- 
don is  introduced  mainly  that  he  may  hand  a wreath  to  the 
victorious  general  himself. 

There  is  something  of  the  religious  interpretation  of  his- 
tory to  be  traced  even  in  vase-paintings.  A very  fine  vase  of 
Tarentum  1 (Fig.  108)  represents  the  conflict  of  Asia  and  Europe 
in  a rather  remarkable  way.  The  picture  is  a large  one,  and 
contains  three  rows  of  figures.  In  the  lowest  row  Persians  are 
represented,  bringing  contributions  of  money  to  a treasurer, 
who  is  recording  the  amounts  in  his  tablets.  In  the  middle 
row  is  King  Darius  in  the  midst  of  his  council,  who  are  evi- 
dently deliberating  on  grave  affairs;  and  a person  in  Greek 
dress,  probably  Damaratus,  the  Spartan  refugee,  is  addressing 
the  king,  behind  whom  stands  one  of  the  body-guard.  The 
subject  of  his  discourse  is  clearly  the  invasion  of  Greece.  That 
invasion  was  to  come;  yet  before  it  came  it  was  doomed  to 
failure ; and  this  is  set  forth  in  the  top  line  of  the  picture,  where 
we  see  Hellas  standing  safe  between  her  two  great  guardians, 
Zeus  and  Athena ; though  Asia,  represented  as  a proud  seated 
queen,  sends  against  her  a kind  of  fury,  bearing  two  torches 
and  having  snakes  in  her  hair,  over  whose  head  stands  the  in- 
scription Ara , or  Curse.  Aphrodite  and  Artemis  on  the  left 
complete  the  tale  of  gods,  with  Victory,  who  is  beseeching  the 
attention  of  Zeus  to  Hellas. 

The  other  subject  mentioned,  the  way  in  which  in  Greece 
the  history  of  sculpture  was  parallel  to  the  main  course  of  his- 

1 Mon.  delV  Inst.,  Vol.  IX.,  51. 

Y 


Fig.  108.  — Tarentine  vase. 


XIX 


ART  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


323 


tory,  we  cannot  here  consider.  The  connection  between  history 
and  sculpture  is  not,  as  may  be  judged  from  what  has  been 
said  already,  so  close  as  the  connection  between  history  and 
inscriptions,  or  history  and  coins.  The  course  of  the  higher 
art  does  not  throw  light  upon  the  definite  facts  of  history ; but 
it  does  accompany  and  throw  light  on  the  gradual  changes  in 
politics,  in  religion,  and  in  custom  which  occurred  as  Greece 
ran  her  course.  It  is,  however,  impossible  here  to  go  further 
into  this  parallelism ; I must  refer  the  reader  to  the  histories 
of  Greek  art  and  Greek  sculpture,  which  deal  with  the  matter 
in  detail. 


CHAPTER  XX 


COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 

So  far  as  we  have  gone  at  present  Greek  art  would  seem  to 
have  very  much  to  do  with  ideas,  and  but  little  with  facts  of 
history.  Its  message  to  us  would  seem  to  be  concerned  rather 
with  the  vivification  than  with  the  verification  of  the  facts  of 
Greek  life.  It  rather  displays  to  us  the  background  against 
which  the  Greek  race  acted  out  its  drama,  than  the  plot  of  the 
drama  itself.  To  correct  what  may  perhaps  be  the  excess  of 
this  impression,  we  will  devote  the  present  chapter  to  a brief 
consideration  of  the  place  taken  in  archaeology  by  coins. 

The  study  of  coins,  numismatics,  has  sometimes  been  termed 
the  Grammar  of  Greek  Art.  By  this  it  is  meant  that  of  all 
classes  of  Greek  remains  coins  are  the  most  trustworthy,  give 
us  the  most  precise  information,  introduce  us  to  the  greatest 
variety  of  facts.  As  regards  epigraphy,  art,  religion,  commerce, 
they  are  monuments  of  the  first  importance.  Their  date  and 
locality  can  be  determined  with  greater  precision  than  those  of 
any  other  classes  of  remains,  except  the  remains  of  buildings 
found  in  situ.  Thus  coins  furnish,  if  not  exactly  a grammar, 
at  least  a valuable  epitome  or  index  of  Greek  art.  Work  upon 
them  is  perhaps  the  best  possible  introduction  to  archaeology. 
The  student  who  takes  this  road  avoids  areas  of  controversy; 
he  trains  his  eyes  by  the  contemplation  of  works  of  unques- 
tioned genuineness  and  beauty ; he  learns  to  think  by  periods 
and  by  districts.  It  is  only  practical  difficulties,  arising  from 
the  small  size  of  coins  and  the  great  value  of  fine  specimens, 

324 


CHAP.  XX  COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


325 


which  prevent  the  study  of  numismatics  from  lying  at  the 
root  of  archaeological  training. 

Detailed  numismatic  studies  can  only  be  carried  on  when 
there  is  free  access  to  one  of  the  large  collections  of  Greek 
coins,  such  as  exist  in  the  great  national  museums  of  Europe. 
It  is  this  inaccessibility  of  the  material  for  study  which  long 
delayed  the  development  of  numismatics  as  a branch  of  archae- 
ology, and  still  causes  this  field  to  be  less  highly  cultivated  than 
others.  For  example,  much  more  light  than  has  hitherto 
been  discovered  in  the  study  of  coins  might  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  the  detailed  history  of  ancient  commerce.  The  mone- 
tary standards  on  which  the  coins  of  cities  were  at  any  period 
issued  are  at  once  an  indication  of  the  commercial  sphere  to 
which  those  cities  belonged.  For  example,  about  409  b.c.  the 
cities  of  the  island  of  Rhodes  combined  to  found  the  city  of 
Rhodes,  which  almost  immediately  began  greatly  to  flourish, 
and  to  extend  its  commerce  along  the  shores  of  Asia.  The 
coins  of  the  new  city  were  almost  from  the  first  issued  on  a 
special  distinctive  standard ; and  when  we  find  that  stand- 
ard, in  the  early  part  of  the  fourth  century,  spreading  not  only 
to  cities  of  the  southern  coast  of  Asia  Minor,  but  farther,  as  far 
as  the  Thracian  coast,  we  may  well  find  in  it  a witness  to  the 
rapid  spread  of  Rhodian  commerce  in  the  great  gap  left  by  the 
fall  of  Athens. 

The  precision  of  the  information  given  us  by  coins,  and  their 
complete  freedom  from  modern  restoration,  admirably  fit  them 
to  become  the  basis  of  various  lines  of  archaeological  study.  It 
will  be  found  that  through  the  coins  of  each  district  of  the 
Greek  wdrld  there  runs  something  of  common  character.  The 
coins  of  the  Greek  cities  of  southern  Italy  are  not  to  be  con- 
fused with  those  of  the  Doric  and  Chalcidian  cities  of  Sicily; 
but  Italian  and  Sicilian  coins  stand  together  as  a species  in 
comparison  with  the  coins  of  northern  Greece,  which  again 
present  a marked  contrast  to  the  money  of  the  cities  of  the 


326 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


Asiatic  coast.  It  is  true  that  when  a great  school  of  sculpture 
or  painting  arises  in  a city,  it  usually  reaches  beyond  a mere 
local  character  to  one  which  is  national  or  cosmopolitan ; but, 
nevertheless,  local  traditions  and  conditions  tell  upon  it.  Thus 
a general  geographical  arrangement  of  characters  in  art,  based 
upon  the  testimony  of  coins,  is  a good  preliminary  study  to 
work  upon  sculpture.  When  Professor  Brunn  produced  his 
noted  theory  of  a North  Greek  School  of  Art,  the  most  trust- 
worthy section  of  his  evidence  was  the  numismatic.  And  in  a 
letter  to  the  writer  of  this  book  he  stated  his  opinion  that  the 
question  of  the  date  and  extent  of  the  archaizing  tendency  in 
later  Greek  art  would  be  finally  settled  only  by  an  appeal  to 
coins. 

In  the  special  study  of  ancient  portraiture,  a branch  of  ar- 
chaeology which  has  long  been  neglected,  but  is  now  rapidly 
returning  into  favour,  the  most  trustworthy  evidence  is  that  of 
coins.  Coins  give  us  portraits  of  nearly  all  the  kings  and  rulers 
of  Asia,  Greece,  and  Rome,  from  the  time  of  Alexander  the 
Great  onwards.  And  in  the  Roman  age  it  was  no  uncommon 
thing  to  place  on  coins  the  figure  or  the  head  of  any  citizen  who 
had  in  past  time  brought  renown  to  his  city. 

The  consideration  of  coins  in  relation  to  commerce,  to  reli- 
gion, to  epigraphy,  does  not  enter  into  the  scope  of  this  work. 
Coins  regarded  as  works  of  art  follow  in  their  designs  those 
laws  of  balance  and  symmetry,  of  relief  and  perspective,  of 
which  I have  spoken  in  previous  chapters.  Thus  considered, 
they  are  works  in  medium  relief,  of  small  size  and  circular 
form.  Their  designs,  when  consisting  not  of  a head  but  of 
figures,  are  much  like  those  of  the  metopes  of  temples,  but 
even  simpler.  But  the  fact  to  which  I propose  now  to  call 
attention  is  that  every  important  city  in  Greece,  and  many 
towns  which  were  unimportant,  issued  during  most  of  their 
autonomous  existence  series  of  coins,  bearing  the  arms  of  the 
state  as  type,  series  which  run  strictly  parallel  to  the  political 


XX 


COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


327 


history  of  the  state,  reflecting  its  changes,  rising  with  its  rise, 
and  disappearing  at  its  fall.  Thus  we  have  a numismatic 
record  of  Greek  history,  sometimes  far  more  complete  in  de- 
tail than  the  history  recorded  by  writers,  and  possessing  the 
great  advantage  of  consisting  wholly  of  objects,  visible  to  the 
eye,  to  be  weighed  by  the  hand,  and  ready  on  close  investiga- 
tion to  furnish  facts,  the  validity  of  which  can  scarcely  be 
denied. 

In  the  Introduction  to  a work  on  Greek  coins,1  I have  tried 
to  set  forth  the  method  whereby  it  is  possible  to  range  the 
coins  of  cities  in  series  running  parallel  to  the  fortunes  of  those 
cities.  Two  processes  have  to  be  gone  through.  First,  it  is 
necessary  to  arrange  the  whole  of  a series  in  order  of  date,  by 
the  aid  of  our  knowledge  of  the  forms  of  letters  used  in  the 
inscriptions,  our  perception  of  style  in  art,  our  knowledge  of 
weights  and  of  fabric,  not  neglecting  such  more  detailed  evidence 
as  may  be  furnished  by  the  discovery  of  hoards,  observation 
of  restriking  of  one  type  over  another,  and  the  like.  In  the 
second  place,  we  turn  to  the  recorded  history  of  our  city,  and 
endeavour  to  find  lines  of  evidence,  the  more  exact  and  objective 
the  better,  connecting  particular  issues  of  coins  with  particular 
historic  events,  a military  success,  an  alliance,  the  accession  of 
a ruler,  the  introduction  of  a fresh  cultus  of  some  deity,  and  so 
forth.  Before  this  can  be  done,  the  ancient  historians  must  of 
course  be  read  with  keen  and  critical  eyes.  The  historian  only 
gives  us  an  opinion,  which  may  be  true  or  false,  but  in  either 
case  is  certain  to  be  largely  moulded  by  his  own  subjective  views, 
his  sense  of  style,  his  political  prepossessions,  his  chances  of 
obtaining  good  information. 

It  will  be  clear  that  this  process  is  a cumulative  one.  The 
beginner  will  be  apt  to  find  in  coins  all  kinds  of  historic  coin- 
cidences and  allusions  which  do  not  exist.  But  every  time  an 

1 The  Types  of  Greek  Coins , 1883,  p.  56. 


328 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


arrangement  is  made  on  really  good  evidence,  it  will  shed  light 
on  the  successive  issues  of  coins  of  all  cities  in  the  same  dis- 
trict or  the  same  political  circle ; and  thus  by  degrees  the 
coinage  of  city  after  city  will  fall  into  order  and  sequence. 

One  may  fairly  say  that  the  chronological  classification  of 
Greek  coins,  if  we  except  certain  districts,  has  now  been  car- 
ried out  to  a generally  recognized  conclusion.  A summary  of 
the  results  will  be  found  in  Dr.  Head’s  Historia  Numorum} 
But  as  recently  as  1870  the  process  had  scarcely  been  begun, 
and  the  same  writer’s  Chronological  Sequence  of  the  Coins  of 
Syracuse , which  appeared  in  1874,  was  the  first  consecutive 
and  satisfactory  attempt  at  coordinating  the  history  of  a 
Greek  city  with  its  coins.  To  the  English-speaking  student 
several  monographs  of  this  kind  are  accessible  in  his  own 
language,2  numismatics  being  the  only  branch  of  classical 
archaeology  which  can  be  studied  beyond  the  rudiments  with- 
out the  use  of  books  other  than  English. 

I will  cite  a few  examples  of  coins,  the  date  of  which  can  be 
fixed,  and  which  thus  serve  as  landmarks  in  the  coinage  of 
the  cities  to  which  they  belong. 

When  Gelon  of  Syracuse  won  in  480  his  great  victory  over 
the  Carthaginians  at  Himera,  the  defeated  enemy  was  able  to 
obtain  tolerable  terms  of  peace  through  the  intercession  of 
Damarete,  wife  of  Gelon,  and  in  gratitude  presented  to  her 
a hundred  talents  of  gold ; such  at  least  is  the  story  of  Diodorus 
Siculus.'3  From  the  proceeds  were  issued  silver  coins  of  the 
weight  of  ten  Attic  drachms,  that  is,  as  we  know,  about  six  hun- 
dred and  seventy-five  grains.  Now  we  have  surviving  a few 
coins  of  Syracuse  of  archaic  style  and  of  this  very  unusual  size 

1 Oxford,  1887.  A new  edition  in  1911. 

2 I may  name  the  following,  which  originally  appeared  in  the  Numismatic 
Chronicle:  B.  V.  Head,  Coins  of  Boeotia , Coins  of  Ephesus ; P.  Gardner,  Sicilian 
Studies , Coins  of  Elis , Coins  of  Samos;  A.  J.  Evans,  Syracusan  Medallions , 
Horsemen  of  Tarentum.  Mr.  G.  F.  Hill’s  Coins  of  Ancient  Sicily  is  a good 
conspectus. 

* XI.,  26. 


XX 


COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


329 


and  weight ; and  there  can  be  scarcely  any  doubt  that  they  are 
the  very  pieces  mentioned  by  Diodorus  and  Julius  Pollux  as 
Damareteia  (Fig.  109).  We  can  assign  them  unhesitatingly  to 
479-8  b.c.  Every  archaeologist  will  appreciate  the  advantage 
of  being  able  to  assert  that  all  coins  of  Syracuse  of  more  archaic 


Fig.  109. — Damareteion. 

style  than  the  Damareteion  were  struck  before  479  b.c.  and 
pieces  of  later  style  after  that  date.  And  since  coins  of  closely 
similar  style,  though  not  of  the  same  weight,  make  their  ap- 
pearance at  Leontini,  the  coinage  of  that  city  also  can  be 
divided  into  two  groups  by  a line  of  rigid  date. 

To  take  another  example.  When  Dion,  the  disciple  of  Plato, 
was  planning  his  fateful  expedition  against  Dionysius  of  Syra- 
cuse in  357  b.c.,  he  made  his  headquarters  in  the  island  of 
Zacynthus,  there  collected 
troops,  and  thence  sailed 
against  Syracuse.  We  have 
coins  struck  at  Zacynthus, 
as  inscription  and  types 
abundantly  prove  (Fig. 

110),  and  belonging  to  about  Fig.  110.— Dion  coin, 

the  middle  of  the  fourth 

century  b.c.,  which  are  stamped  also  with  the  name  of  Dion. 
We  may  fairly  suppose  that  he  struck  them  for  the  payment  of 
his  mercenaries,  many  of  whom  were  Zacynthians.  Here  again 


330 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


we  have  a valuable  fixed  date  in  the  coinage  of  a city.  And 
the  types  used  by  Dion,  the  head  of  Apollo  and  the  Delphic 
tripod,  correspond  to  the  assertion  of  Plutarch,  that  before 
Dion  left  the  island  he  made  splendid  sacrifices  to  Apollo,  the 
patron  god  of  Zacynthus,  thus  placing  himself  under  his  special 
protection. 

Sometimes  an  event  which  is  barely  mentioned  by  ancient 
historians  is  written  large  in  the  coinage.  An  often  cited,  but 
very  characteristic,  example  is  to  be  found  in  the  alliance 
formed  by  certain  of  the  cities  of  Asia  against  Sparta  just  after 
the  victory  of  Conon  at  Cnidus.  Xenophon  and  Diodorus  1 
tell  us  that  after  the  battle  of  Cnidus  many  of  the  cities  of  Asia 
expelled  their  Spartan  governors  and  declared  themselves  inde- 
pendent. But  Xenophon  and  Diodorus  give  us  scanty  details. 
M.  Waddington  first  pointed  out  that  we  can  prove  from  coins 
that  certain  cities,  including  Ephesus,  Rhodes,  Cnidus,  and 
Samos,  entered  into  a definite  anti-Laconian  compact.  All 
these  cities  issued  coins  of  uniform  weight,  a weight  not  in  use 
before  in  those  parts,  which  bore  on  one  side  the  usual  device 
of  the  issuing  city,  on  the  other  a figure  of  the  child  Herakles 
strangling  the  serpents,  and  the  inscription  SYN  which  doubt- 
less stands  for  av/jifia^t/cov  vo/JUG/ia,  alliance  coin  (Figs.  Ill, 


in. 


112. 


Figs.  111,112.  — Coins  of  Samos  and  Ephesus. 


112).  The  uniformity  of  these  coins  proves  that  they  were  the 
result  of  a convention,  their  weight  that  a commercial  under- 
standing was  involved.  The  type,  which  is  taken  from  the 

1 Xenophon,  Hist.,  IV.,  8,  1 ; Diodorus,  XIV.,  83. 


XX 


COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


331 


coins  of  Thebes,  has  clearly  a political  purpose,  showing  that 
the  cities  ranged  themselves  on  the  side  of  the  greatest  enemy 
of  the  Spartan  domination,  Thebes.  The  type  without  the 
inscription  is  copied  by  other  cities  which  do  not  seem  to  have 
belonged  to  the  alliance,  but  only  desired  to  express  the  same 
anti-Spartan  tendency,  such  cities  as  Lampsacus,  and  even  the 
distant  Zacynthus. 

Any  one  can  see  how  such  facts  as  these  add  colour  and 
warmth  to  the  dry  narratives  of  Xenophon  and  Diodorus.  It 
is  true  that  at  present  it  would  not  be  easy  to  put  together 
many  instances  so  clear  and  so  striking.  But  much  will  be 
done  by  closer  study.  Sir  A.  Evans,  in  his  Horsemen  of  Taren - 
turn , has  succeeded  in  some  cases  with  greater,  in  some  with 
lesser,  probability  in  emphasizing  by  the  evidence  of  coins  all  the 
chief  events  of  the  history  of  Tarentum.  Equally  minute  and 
exact  work  on  other  series  of  coins  would  yield  a like  harvest. 
Every  gold  and  silver  coin  issued  by  Greek  cities  was  struck 
on  a particular  standard.  The  question  why  the  standard  was 
chosen  may  sometimes  be  easily  answered,  but  very  often  the 
reasons  are  by  no  means  obvious,  and  a search  into  them  will 
bring  to  light  fresh  and  unexpected  relations  of  a political  or 
commercial  kind  between  various  Greek  states.  Similarly  the 
reason  for  which  the  patronage  of  a coinage  was  assigned  to  one 
deity  rather  than  another  is  often  far  to  seek ; it  is  by  no  means 
always  the  most  prominent  among  the  cults  of  a city  which 
receives  most  recognition  on  its  coins. 

Nevertheless,  as  in  other  branches  of  Greek  art,  so  in  this,  it 
is  easy  to  misread  the  testimony  of  the  monuments.  A few 
observations  on  this  subject  may  be  useful. 

We  must  never  lose  sight  of  the  psychological  side  of  ancient 
numismatics,  nor  overlook  the  purpose  for  which  coins  were 
struck  and  issued.  This  purpose  was,  at  least  in  the  autono- 
mous age  of  Greece,  primarily  commercial ; coins  were  struck 


332 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


as  a measure  of  value  and  a medium  of  exchange.  This  main 
intention  was  crossed  by  many  others,  acting  in  some  cases  con- 
sciously and  in  some  unconsciously.  The  desire  to  procure  and 
to  recognize  the  help  of  the  gods  in  all  city  affairs,  the  refusal 
to  tolerate  what  was  ugly  or  unmeaning,  the  love  of  artistic 
variety,  a desire  to  indicate  who  was  responsible  for  the  weight 
and  quality  of  the  money,  these  and  other  motives  conditioned 
the  production  of  coins;  but  the  main  questions  were  as  to 
their  reception  in  the  markets  of  home  and  of  other  cities, 
whether  they  would  be  accepted  by  correspondents  or  merce- 
naries or  tax  gatherers.  Only  thus  can  we  account  for  such 
facts  as  that  Athens  through  all  her  history  issued  coins  bear- 
ing an  archaic  or  unsatisfactory  head  of  her  guardian  goddess, 
and  that  Sicyon  adhered  always  to  the  ugly  and  trivial  type 
of  the  chimaera.  But  the  failure  of  the  most  artistic  cities  to 
produce  a beautiful  coinage  is  made  up  for  by  the  success  in 
this  matter  of  Tarentum  and  Syracuse,  Cyzicus  and  Lampsacus, 
and  many  other  places,  some  of  which,  like  Terina  and  Caulonia, 
are  scarcely  mentioned  by  historians. 

Archaeologists  have  in  the  past  often  been  misled  in  dealing 
with  numismatic  testimony  through  underestimating  the  spon- 
taneous vitality  of  Greek  art.  They  have  often  been  unable 
to  imagine  that  when  great  sculptors  in  a city  were  setting  up 
some  world-famed  statue,  the  die-cutter  could  fail,  in  treating 
the  same  theme,  to  be  influenced  by  their  work.  It  is  very 
natural  to  expect  to  find,  on  the  coins  of  Elis  of  the  middle  of 
the  fifth  century,  a reflex  of  the  statue  of  the  Olympian  Zeus 
by  Pheidias,  and  on  the  coins  of  Rhegium  of  the  same  date  to 
look  for  traces  of  the  style  of  the  sculptor  Pythagoras.  But 
the  expectation  is  not  usually  justified.  Greek  art  was  a thing 
so  sensitive  to  circumstance,  so  calculated  in  regard  to  condi- 
tions of  space  and  purpose,  that  an  artist  who  made  the  die  of 
a coin  would  think  primarily  of  the  coin,  and  of  the  subject 
as  adapted  to  the  shape  and  purpose  of  the  coin.  Besides  this, 


XX 


COINS  IN  RELATION  TO  HISTORY 


333 


the  men  who  worked  upon  coins  and  gems  probably  belonged 
to  families  with  whom  such  work  was  hereditary,  and  not  to 
the  same  social  class  as  the  great  sculptors.  Thus  as  a rule 
the  sculptor,  the  vase-painter,  and  the  die-engraver  pursue 
each  his  own  course  independently.  In  the  learned  Hellen- 
istic age,  which  was  beginning  to  dwell  on  the  past,  and  which 
cherished  temples  and  their  contents  as  moderns  cherish  cathe- 
drals of  the  Middle  Ages,  there  is  more  copying  of  great  statues. 
For  example,  the  coins  of  Messene  reproduce  the  statue  of  Zeus 
by  Ageladas,  and  the  coins  of  Epidaurus,  the  gold  and  ivory 
statue  of  Asklepios  by  Thrasymedes  of  Paros.  But  even  in 
such  cases  as  these,  what  we  have  is  rather  a translation  than 
a copy;  attitude  is  preserved  rather  than  style  or  character. 

In  Roman  times,  and  especially  in  the  learned  and  art-loving 
age  of  the  Antonines,  we  find  upon  the  coins  of  Greek  cities 
a large  number  of  intentional  and  tolerably  faithful  copies  of 
the  monuments  of  the  great  age,  temples,  statues,  and  the  like,1 
which  copies,  small  as  they  are,  and  governed  by  certain  con- 
ventions which  require  to  be  carefully  considered,  often  serve 
to  identify  existing  works  of  art,  or  give  us  useful  informa- 
tion as  to  details  of  such  as  are  lost.  Some  archaeologists, 
especially  in  recent  years,  have  been  disposed  to  undervalue 
this  source  of  knowledge,  the  reason  being  that  they  are  not 
well  enough  acquainted  with  the  grammar  of  Greek  coin-types, 
and  fall  into  the  error,  of  which  I have  more  than  once  spoken, 
of  comparing  the  copy  directly  with  the  original  without  ab- 
stracting the  modifications  which  the  copyist  would  as  a matter 
of  style  be  certain  to  make. 

It  is  a noteworthy  fact  that  here,  at  the  very  end  of  the  his- 
tory of  Greek  art,  we  come  again  to  the  same  phenomena  which 
impressed  us  in  dealing  with  its  origin.  Here  again  it  is  not 
a transcript  which  the  artist  makes  of  the  building  or  the  statue 

1 See  Imhoof-Blumer  and  P.  Gardner,  Numismatic  Commentary  on  Pau- 
sanias,  Quaritch,  1887,  and  Mr.  Frazer’s  Pausanias,  passim. 


334 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XX 


which  he  would  copy,  but  a translation  based  on  an  impression 
in  the  memory.  As  to  fact,  he  is  careless;  he  will  reduce  the 
number  of  pillars  in  a temple,  or  if  he  has  a reason,  alter  its 
form ; he  will  open  it  out  in  front  to  show  the  statue  within ; 
he  will  give  us  what  he  thinks  important,  and  not  what  he 
thinks  unimportant.  In  the  same  way  he  will  modify  the 
pose  of  a statue  freely,  or  raise  the  hand  to  display  the  attri- 
bute ; he  will  not  be  exact,  but  he  will  freely  represent  what 
seem  to  him  the  leading  features  of  the  work.  With  this 
curious  point  of  contact  between  archaic  and  Roman  Greece 
we  may  fittingly  conclude  this  chapter. 


CHAPTER  XXI 


NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART 

Greek  art,  like  Greek  poetry  and  philosophy  and  geometry, 
seems  constructed  with  extreme  simplicity,  when  compared 
with  the  more  complicated  productions  of  modern  Europe; 
herein  lies  its  main  attractiveness,  and  its  educational  value. 
It  exhibits  the  working  of  a race,  the  civilization  of  which  was 
very  simple  and  harmonious,  of  a race  gifted  by  nature  with 
the  finest  aesthetic  and  intellectual  qualities,  so  that  to  the  end 
of  time  the  Greeks  will  stand  out  against  the  background  of 
ancient  history  as  a natural  aristocracy,  and  always  furnish 
us  with  models  which  in  their  own  way,  and  within  the  limits 
which  they  acknowledge,  will  be  unsurpassed.  Modern  life  is 
more  ambitious  and  more  complicated ; we  have  learned  the  ways 
of  progress  as  the  Greeks  never  learned  them,  so  that  to  us  in 
many  respects  they  seem  to  be  like  children.  But  each  man 
as  he  grows  up  passes  through  the  various  stages  of  culture 
which  lie  behind  us,  and  to  a certain  stage  in  growth  and  edu- 
cation the  teaching  of  Greece  is  of  unequalled  value.  And 
besides,  the  wonderful  natural  endowments  of  the  Hellenic  race 
were  such  that  the  most  cultivated  of  modern  minds,  a Goethe, 
a Matthew  Arnold,  a Sainte-Beuve,  will  to  the  end  find  in  Greek 
literature  and  art  a freshness,  symmetry,  and  charm  which 
may  be  sought  in  vain  elsewhere. 

Matthew  Arnold,  with  his  usual  insight,  has  observed  that 
it  is  in  sense  and  in  intellect  that  the  Greek  is  supreme.  The 
eyes  and  ears  of  the  ordinary  Greek  man  may  not  have  been 
so  acute  in  observing  minute  or  distant  detail  as  the  senses 
of  the  savage,  whose  whole  living  depends  upon  their  efficiency. 

335 


336 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


But  in  delicacy  of  aesthetic  perception,  of  the  relations  of  parts 
to  a whole,  of  the  value  of  a curve,  of  the  suitability  of  a musical 
note,  they  excelled  beyond  compare.  And  in  sheer  intelligence, 
in  logical  power,  and  a perception  of  the  relation  of  means  to 
ends,  the  Greeks  are  found  to  be  supreme.  It  was  mainly 
through  clearness  and  taste  that  literature,  philosophy,  sculp- 
ture, painting,  rose  among  them  to  a level  not  merely  beyond 
comparison  with  that  attained  by  ancient  peoples,  but  to  a 
height  in  its  own  way  which  has  scarcely  been  reached  by 
the  most  gifted  of  modern  races. 

I have  had  occasion  constantly  in  these  pages  to  insist  on  the 
ideality  of  Greek  art.  Modern  writers  sometimes  speak  of 
the  realism  of  works  of  the  school  of  Lysippus  or  of  Pergamene 
statues.  They  even  speak  of  naturalism  in  connection  with 
such  earlier  works  as  the  Pediments  of  Olympia.  The  reader 
must  not  suppose  that  this  realism  is  like  that  which  we  find 
in  some  modern  schools.  To  make  this  clear  I must  at  some 
length  examine  the  meaning  of  the  terms  realist  and  idealist} 

The  great  and  outstanding  feature  of  Greek  art,  as  of  all 
the  productions  of  the  Greek  genius,  is  humanism.  It  is 
the  great  merit  of  the  Greeks  first  to  have  felt  and  expressed 
the  dignity  and  nobleness  of  human  nature,  and  to  have  studied 
in  that  light  all  the  powers  and  faculties  of  man,  with  a view 
to  conforming  to  what  is  fixed  and  permanent  in  them,  and  to 
developing  in  them  what  is  capable  of  improvement.  In  litera- 
ture we  notice  this  from  the  first.  The  interest  and  beauty 
of  the  Homeric  poems  is  imperishable.  They  appeal  to  every 
one  who  has  any  power  of  appreciation  by  their  intense  human- 
ity, their  love  of  human  beauty  and  prowess,  their  touches  of 
pathos  and  of  sadness.  The  charming  tales  of  Herodotus  never 
pall  upon  us  because  they  also  are  fragments  of  the  epic  of 

1 A lucid  and  excellent  discussion  of  this  subject  will  be  found  in  three  essays 
by  J.  A.  Symonds,  Essays  Speculative  and  Sugg estive,  third  edition,  1907,  pp.  108- 
155. 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  337 


human  life ; they  make  us  feel  that  all  the  persons  of  whom  he 
speaks  were  flesh  of  our  flesh  and  spirit  of  our  spirit.  How 
different  they  are  from  the  monotonous  chronicles  of  the  kings 
of  Egypt  and  Assyria  ! As  regards  the  mere  statement  of  what 
happened,  the  chronicles  may  be  equally  accurate,  but  they 
fail  in  human  interest.  The  lyric  and  dramatic  poetry  of 
Greece  carries  on  the  tradition,  by  recording  what  men  and 
women  really  felt  and  cared  about;  how  they  were  carried  out 
of  themselves  by  a tide  of  love  or  of  desire  of  fame,  how  they 
shuddered  under  the  blows  of  fate,  and  how  they  regarded  the 
end  which  comes  to  all  mortals. 

Homer  and  Herodotus  represent  chiefly  the  Ionian  spirit 
in  literature,  with  its  joyous  freedom  of  life,  its  curiosity,  its 
keen  powers  of  observation  and  its  intense  love  of  enjoyment. 
But  there  are  other  elements  in  these  writers  which  are  as 
necessary  to  a great  literature  as  is  keen  aesthetic  feeling. 
There  is  also  in  them  a love  of  measure  and  of  balance,  a delight 
in  clearly  outlined  form.  The  epics  of  most  peoples  run  on 
in  a limpid  stream  without  plan  or  serious  meaning ; tale  fol- 
lows tale  and  exploit  exploit  without  beginning,  middle,  or  end. 
But  the  great  epics  of  the  fall  of  Ilium  and  the  Persian  invasion 
of  Greece  are  informed  by  purpose,  put  together  on  a plan, 
great  creations.  When  at  the  beginning  of  the  fifth  century 
Greece  had  to  pass  through  the  fire,  and  came  out  strengthened 
and  ennobled,  we  find  in  the  rising  Attic  literature  a more 
chastened  spirit.  The  puritanism,  if  we  may  so  call  it,  of  the 
Dorians  curbs  the  Ionian  levity.  In  everything,  manners, 
dress,  religion,  art,  there  is  a reaction  towards  what  was  severe 
and  measured. 

The  Attic  writers  not  only  loved  men.  but  they  studied  them 
with  deep  attention.  Thucydides  tried  to  work  out  the  lines  of 
action  of  human  nature  working  in  the  field  of  politics.  Demos- 
thenes in  his  speeches  tries  to  persuade  by  playing  upon  all  the 
qualities  of  his  audience,  their  compassion  for  misfortune, 
z 


338 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


their  indignation  against  violence  and  injustice,  their  respect 
for  law  and  order.  No  doubt  in  the  great  success  of  oratory  in 
the  fourth  century  we  see  the  coming  in  of  baser  tendencies,  the 
desire  to  use  the  facts  of  human  nature  for  doubtful  purposes, 
the  preference  of  the  plausible  to  the  true,  which  in  the  long 
run  did  much  to  bring  about  the  downfall  of  Greece.  Nothing 
is  so  bad  as  the  corruption  of  what  is  best. 

With  Socrates  the  Greek  spirit  turned  thoughtfully  and 
deliberately  from  what  is  without  to  what  is  within,  from  nature 
to  man  and  society.  The  vague  speculations  of  the  Ionian 
philosophers  as  to  the  origin  and  composition  of  the  visible 
universe  were  abandoned  as  leading  to  little  of  real  value. 
Instead,  Socrates  turned  the  attention  of  his  contemporaries 
to  things  which  really  concerned  life,  the  nature  of  virtue  and  of 
justice,  the  best  form  of  constitution  for  the  state  and  for  the 
individual,  who  was  a small  model  of  the  state.  With  cunning 
and  remorseless  hand  he  probed  all  the  current  views  of  happi- 
ness and  misery,  of  good  and  evil.  He  showed  how  goodness 
could  be  encouraged  until  it  became  a habit ; how  the  intellect 
was  given  to  man  in  order  that  he  should  attain  the  better  and 
avoid  the  worse.  He  and  the  philosophic  sects,  which  all  went 
back  to  him  as  founder,  built  up  magnificent  conceptions  of  a 
constitution  of  the  universe  in  which  man  as  a responsible 
and  moral  being  stood  grandly  in  the  foreground. 

Yet  this  concentration  of  man  on  himself  did  not  stand 
in  the  way  of  careful  observation  of  nature.  Indeed  it  en- 
couraged the  study  of  a very  important  part  of  nature,  the 
human  body.  And  it  fostered  an  interest  in  whatever  had  a 
close  relation  to  human  life.  It  did  draw  men  away  from  the 
old  daemonic  beliefs  as  to  the  supernatural.  And  no  doubt 
for  a time  it  checked  the  impartial  study  of  natural  fact,  which 
only  revived  in  the  Hellenistic  age,  when  man  had  become  a 
less  noble  object  of  observation.  But  that  it  gave  far  more 
than  it  lost  no  student  of  ancient  history  could  doubt. 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  339 


A great  work  of  the  eventide  of  ancient  literature,  the  Lives 
of  Plutarch,  sums  up  for  us  much  of  what  the  ancient  world 
has  of  permanent  interest  for  the  modern.  Here  exalted  types 
of  human  nature  are  drawn  out,  full  of  faults  and  failings  it  is 
true,  no  impeccable  saints,  but  grand  figures  on  a large  scale, 
models  of  ambition,  of  courage,  of  patriotism,  coloured  with  the 
brilliant  hues  of  a southern  sky.  The  Shakespearean  gallery 
of  characters  owes  a great  debt  to  Plutarch.  Next  to  the  Bible, 
and  the  history  of  one’s  own  country,  one  might  place  the 
Lives  in  value  for  the  formation  of  character  in  youth.  If 
Plutarch  fall  into  neglect,  it  will  not  be  long  before  the  Bible 
is  also  left  in  the  background,  and  the  world  will  have  set  aside 
the  richest  and  most  delightful  of  the  lessons  learned  in  the 
course  of  historic  experience. 

The  same  tendencies  which  inspire  Greek  history  and  litera- 
ture are  also  to  be  traced  in  Greek  art. 

Though  painting  and  sculpture  be  concerned  with  nature, 
with  what  the  eyes  see  and  the  hands  feel,  yet  they  cannot  be 
content  with  mere  slavish  imitation.  In  the  case  of  painting 
this  is  obvious,  since  man  has  two  eyes  and  the  canvas  is  a 
flat  surface,  since  colour  can  never  render  literally  the  effects 
of  light,  and  so  forth.  In  the  case  of  sculpture  it  is  less  clear, 
since  sculpture  does  render  shape  exactly.  But  sculpture  which 
only  copies  mechanically  the  ordinary  types  of  nature  is  so 
completely  uninteresting  that  it  has  no  reason  for  existing.  Of 
such  sculpture  the  best  results  would  be  such  as  one  sees  at  a 
waxworks  exhibition.  A photograph  will  render  a scene  of 
nature  or  an  animal  or  man  more  precisely  than  any  painter. 
A cast  from  nature  will  be  more  correct  in  detail  than  any 
sculpture. 

If  sculpture  and  painting  were  merely  mimetic  arts,  as  the 
man  in  the  street  often  supposes  them  to  be,  they  would  be 
completely  outclassed  by  nature  herself.  It  is  said  of  a late 
Shah  of  Persia  that  he  chose  for  purchase  at  an  exhibition  a 


340 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


painting  of  an  ass,  but  was  indignant  at  the  price  asked  for  it, 
when  he  could  buy  a real  ass  for  the  tenth  part  of  the  money. 
If  painting  were  mere  imitation,  he  would  be  right.  Painter 
and  sculptor  in  return  for  what  they  lose  in  the  representation 
of  life  are  bound  to  put  in  something  of  value.  What  they  insert 
must  be  something  human  and  subjective.  They  must  man- 
age to  touch  the  imagination  and  emotion  of  the  beholder. 
The  purchaser  values  a picture  because  he  can  hang  it  in  his 
home,  and  as  often  as  he  looks  at  it,  it  will  arouse  in  some 
measure  the  same  emotions  with  which  he  first  saw  it. 

This  subjective  and  human  element  the  painter  contributes 
from  his  own  personality.  He  must  have  felt  the  emotion  which 
he  rouses  in  others.  It  is  his  style,  his  personal  way  of  looking 
at  things,  which  gives  interest  to  his  works. 

I have  already  shown  to  what  extent  works  of  early  Greek 
art,  like  all  works  of  primitive  art,  are  based  on  memory  and 
an  imaginative  reconstruction.  As  art  matures,  nature  is 
studied  more  and  more  closely,  and  there  is  a continual  approxi- 
mation of  the  work  of  art  to  the  objective  facts  of  nature.  But 
the  subjective  element  which  comes  into  art  at  the  first  never 
leaves  it.  All  art  has  in  it  much  of  the  humanist  element,  which 
in  the  case  of  any  great  art  becomes  an  ideal  element. 

Naturalism  or  realism  is  an  attempt  to  mimic  the  details  of 
visible  things.  This  is  an  attempt  which  lies  very  much  in  the 
way  of  a modern  artist.  Of  the  anatomist  he  learns  the  forms, 
not  of  the  outward  appearance  of  man,  but  of  the  inner  struc- 
ture underlying  that  appearance.  From  photography  he  learns 
the  precise  lines  of  natural  objects,  and  carries  them  with  him 
into  his  studio.  Instantaneous  photography  reveals  the  inti- 
mate ways  of  motion  so  swift  that  observation  cannot  follow  it. 
So  he  is  tempted  to  spend  his  life  in  struggling  to  learn  more 
and  more  of  the  details  of  nature,  in  order  that  he  may  embody 
them  in  his  art.  Realism  in  art  has  in  many  schools  been 
carried  to  a great  length.  Some  careful  study  of  natural  fact 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  341 


is  necessary  as  a basis  for  any  great  school  of  art.  The  Assyrians 
carefully  studied  the  lion  and  the  wild  horse,  the  Greeks  made 
most  exact  study  of  the  human  body  in  all  motions  and  poses, 
though  without  at  first  giving  attention  to  anatomy.  The 
Japanese  observe  plant  life,  and  some  forms  of  animal  life,  with 
astonishing  minuteness  and  accuracy.  The  artists  of  the  early 
Renascence  were  also  minute  in  their  observation  of  plants, 
like  the  Preraphaelites  of  the  last  century.  But  realism  can- 
not be  carried  beyond  a certain  point,  because  it  then  ceases  to 
produce  anything  of  interest,  and  a too  precise  study  of  facts 
brings  with  it  dangers  of  its  own.  The  anatomist  is  apt  to  dull 
his  sense  of  beauty  and  deformity.  If  an  artist  copies  the 
motion  of  his  horses  from  Muybridge’s  instantaneous  photo- 
graphs, he  only  produces  attitudes  which  in  nature  the  eye 
never  sees. 

Now  what  is  most  interesting  to  man  is  man  himself.  What 
is  accurate  to  nature  leaves  the  mind  unimpressed  and  the 
heart  cold,  unless  there  shine  through  it  something  which  is  in 
relation  to  human  life  and  activity.  Hence  there  is  also  a ten- 
dency in  modern  days  to  drift  towards  the  other  extreme,  to 
produce  something  pleasing  or  amusing  without  any  real  au- 
thority in  the  world  of  fact.  There  seems  no  limit  to  the  variety 
of  efforts  made  by  artists  to  interpret  visible  things  in  a way  of 
their  own,  or  frankly  to  set  at  naught  the  testimony  of  the  senses. 
Every  man,  so  to  speak,  fights  for  his  own  hand,  often  very 
effectively,  but  often  also  to  a result  which  is  contrary  to  sense 
and  sanity.1 

The  simplicity  and  regularity  of  Greek  art  saved  it  from 
both  of  these  extremes.  The  Greek  artist  was  not  tempted 
into  eccentricity  and  sensational  attempts,  because  his  pub- 
lic would  not  have  tolerated  such  attempts.  And  on  the 
other  hand,  naturalism,  in  the  sense  of  a complete  sub- 

1 I need  do  no  more  than  refer  to  the  astounding  aberrations  of  the  Impres- 
sionists, recently  exhibited  in  London. 


342 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


ordination  to  the  visible,  was  never  a tendency  of  Greek  art. 
It  is  true  that  Greek  men  had  a very  keen  sense  of  sight.  And 
it  is  true  that  some  later  statues,  such  as  the  fighter  of  Agasias 
in  the  Louvre,  show  a minute  and  accurate  study  of  the  anat- 
omy and  actions  of  the  human  body.  But  such  works  belong 
to  the  decline  of  sculpture;  and  moreover  this  study  of  the 
actual  does  not  pass  beyond  man  to  his  surroundings,  for  it 
was  of  the  essence  of  the  Greek  genius  to  think  far  more  of  man 
than  of  non-human  objects.  Socrates  indelibly  imprinted  this 
character  upon  Greek  philosophy ; it  deeply  marks  the  poetry 
of  Ilomer,  the  history  of  Herodotus,  even  the  pastoral  poetry  of 
Theocritus.  And  it  marks  Greek  art  from  first  to  last;  it  is 
conspicuous  even  in  the  Hellenistic  days,  when  man’s  outlook 
upon  nature  grew  much  wider. 

Thus  in  all  works  of  imitative  or  mimetic  art,  of  painting  and 
sculpture,  there  are  necessarily  two  elements,  that  contributed 
by  the  object  portrayed,  and  t^at  contributed  by  the  portray- 
ing artist.  We  may  call  these  elements  by  various  names.  We 
may  call  the  share  contributed  by  the  object  naturalism  or 
realism,  and  the  part  contributed  by  the  artist  in  its  lower  forms 
subjectivity  or  impressionism,  and  in  its  higher  form  idealism, 
or  the  grand  style. 

Impressionism  is  scarcely  to  be  found  in  Greek  art,  though, 
according  to  Wickhoff,  it  may  be  observed  in  Roman  art  of  the 
Flavian  age.  The  Greeks  saw  things  clearly,  and  they  saw 
them  in  their  wholeness,  whence  they  were  not  disposed  to  ap- 
preciate mere  aspects  of  them.  Moreover,  their  whole  art  was 
in  character  statuesque;  and  sculpture  with  its  slow  and  labo- 
rious procedure  gives  far  less  opportunity  to  the  impressionist. 
The  objects  pursued  by  such  a sculptor  as  Rodin  would  certainly 
have  seemed  to  them  unsuited  to  the  genius  of  sculpture. 

Idealism  takes  its  start  from  the  human  mind,  as  naturalism 
starts  from  the  fact  of  nature.  But  the  process  which  leads  to 
idealism  may  be  stunted,  in  which  case  it  only  reaches  conven- 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  343 


tion.  In  states  of  society  which  are  unprogressive,  the  artist 
is  content  to  render  natural  appearance  according  to  certain 
recognized  rules.  He  thinks  that  if  he  tries  to  copy  nature  more 
closely  he  will  give  himself  much  trouble,  and  the  result  will 
probably  be  less  intelligible.  Certain  kinds  of  scenes,  espe- 
cially scenes  of  the  chase,  of  fighting  or  of  feasting,  appeal  to 
the  emotions  of  his  patrons,  and  he  knows  how  to  arouse  those 
emotions  in  the  recognized  way.  Hence  endless  repetitions, 
numberless  tales  told  in  the  usual  way,  deities  always  represented 
in  the  same  fashion,  and  their  worshippers  merely  lay  figures. 
Such  essentially  are  the  arts  of  Babylon  and  of  Egypt,1  though 
in  them  occasionally  true  artistic  effort  breaks  through  the  crust 
of  convention. 

Already  in  the  prehistoric  art  of  Crete  and  of  Mycenae  we  find 
more  variety  and  more  liberty.  We  see  already  the  beginnings 
of  that  restless  search  into  nature,  and  the  desire  to  bring  before 
the  beholder  life  as  it  was  lived  at  the  time  which  was  a valuable 
element  in  Greek  art.  One  feels  that  if  the  civilization  of 
Mycenae  had  not  met  with  a violent  end,  the  race  might  have 
evolved  such  an  art  as  one  finds  in  Japan,  an  art  fond  of  deco- 
rative forms,  and  also  fond  of  giving  lifelike  views  of  plants  and 
animals  and  men.  But  we  do  not  find  in  Mycenaean  art  that 
human  and  ideal  element  which  at  a later  time  made  the  fortune 
of  Greek  art. 

It  is  the  glory  of  Greek  art  that  it  is  not  only  humanist,  but 
also  ideal.  It  not  only  sets  forth  nature  as  man  sees  it,  but  it  is 
ever  trying  to  pass  beyond  the  appearance  to  the  life  behind. 
Nature,  from  our  human  point  of  view,  seems  seldom  wholly  to 
succeed.  The  artist  who  idealizes  tries,  so  to  speak,  to  surprise 
her  secret,  and  to  carry  out  her  purpose  better  than  she  carries 
it  out  herself.  In  Platonic  language  he  may  be  said  to  contem- 

1 1 am  of  course  aware  that  the  archaic  art  of  Egypt  is  not  devoid  of  fidelity 
to  nature  and  of  human  interest ; but  later  it  is  lost  in  convention,  except  in  the 
case  of  mural  paintings. 


344 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


plate  the  divine  idea  which  is  but  partly  embodied  in  the  object 
of  sense,  and  to  portray  it  in  his  work.  In  Aristotelian  language 
he  may  be  said  while  making  men  like  men  to  depict  them  as 
better  than  they  are.  He  looks  on  his  subjects  at  once  with  the 
eyes  of  sense  which  sees  them  as  they  are,  and  with  the  eyes  of 
imagination  which  transforms  them  and  places  them  on  a higher 
plane. 

There  are  few  men  who  would  find  life  even  tolerable,  unless 
they  had  something  of  this  idealizing  faculty.  “ We  live  by  ad- 
miration, hope,  and  love.”  The  object  of  this  admiration  may 
be  a church,  it  may  be  one’s  country,  it  may  be  an  individual, 
but  one  must,  in  Emerson’s  phrase,  have  some  star  to  which  one 
can  hitch  one’s  wagon.  The  great  peoples  of  the  past  have  all 
had  some  ideal,  by  which  they  have  been  raised  above  their 
fellows.  The  Jews  were  raised  by  their  religion,  the  Romans  by 
their  patriotism  and  love  of  order,  the  Greeks  by  their  desire  of 
the  beautiful. 

The  phrase  “ ideal  art”  is  apt  in  modern  days  to  raise  a prej- 
udice. For  we  are  accustomed  to  confuse  ideal  art  with  its 
inferior  counterfeit,  the  art  which  is  conventional  and  unreal. 
The  eighteenth  century  was  a time  when  they  talked  much  of 
ideal  art,  and  practised  a stiff  conventional  style  far  removed 
from  nature,  which  was  supposed  to  be  classical,  but  was  a 
thousands  miles  removed  from  the  art  of  Greece.  In  literature 
the  romantic  movement  was  a revolt  against  the  dominance  of 
classical  tradition.  The  English  Preraphaelite  art  of  half  a 
century  ago  was  a laborious  attempt  to  return  to  nature  from 
the  stiff  forms  into  which  the  art  of  the  seventeenth  and  eigh- 
teenth centuries  had  driven  painting.  It  is  to  be  observed  that 
almost  all  progressive  schools  of  art  in  the  past  have  professed 
to  go  back  from  what  is  conventional  to  nature.  Eupompus  the 
Greek  painter  advised  Lysippus  to  follow  no  master  but  nature, 
and  the  advice  has  since  been  taken  by  a hundred  founders  of 
schools.  They  have  been  to  some  extent  victims  of  illusion. 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  345 


For  nature  cannot  be  merely  followed,  she  must  be  interpreted. 
And  in  the  interpretation  an  artist  must  introduce  what  is 
human  and  subjective,  however  unconscious  he  may  be  of  so 
doing.  He  may  with  purpose  avoid  the  current  conventions, 
but  he  must  needs  substitute  for  them  ways  of  his  own,  which 
will  be  conventions  to  the  next  generation.  Ideal  art  degener- 
ates into  convention,  as  impressionist  art  ends  in  chaos,  and 
naturalist  art  tends  to  ugliness.  Yet  so  long  as  man  is  man,  and 
the  world  about  us  must  be  apprehended  by  human  senses  and 
touched  with  human  passions,  so  long  there  must  be  a human 
element  in  all  art.  In  fact  the  most  blankly  realist  art  which 
fails  to  perish  through  want  of  human  interest  has  some  ideal 
element  in  it.  It  has  been  well  pointed  out  that  not  only  does 
each  generation  interpret  for  itself  nature  and  humanity  in  a 
somewhat  different  manner,  but  that  even  copies  made  in  differ- 
ent periods  and  schools  of  the  very  same  work  of  art  vary  greatly. 
If  we  trace  a well-known  cathedral  spire  in  a variety  of  drawings, 
we  shall  find  that  even  so  simple  a work  as  a spire  can  be  va- 
riously interpreted.  And  every  archaeologist  knows  that  for- 
geries or  imitations  of  ancient  statues  or  coins  greatly  vary  in 
character  and  type ; the  imitations  of  the  Renascence  are  very 
different  from  those  of  the  seventeenth  century,  and  those  of 
modern  days  again  differ. 

The  idealism  of  Greece  differed  from  that  of  modern  times 
partly  because  its  range  of  ideas  was  far  narrower  and  its 
methods  more  simple,  partly  because  it  was  so  frankly  human- 
ist. But  there  is  also  another  difference  which  is  striking. 
Idealism  in  Greece  is  not  individual,  but  social ; it  belongs  to 
the  nation,  the  city,  or  the  school,  rather  than  to  this  or  that 
artist.  It  is,  in  fact,  impossible  for  any  artist  to  escape  the  re- 
sults of  his  training  and  his  race.  However  fully  resolved  he 
may  be  to  represent  precisely  what  he  sees,  yet  he  has  to  see 
with  eyes  which  accept  knowingly  or  unconsciously  a number  of 
conventions  and  customs  which  are  the  results  of  the  history  of 


346 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP. 


art  in  the  past,  and  which  condition  the  art  of  the  present. 
But  an  artist  may  take  a line  of  individualism.  He  may  be 
content  with  the  endeavour  to  express  himself  on  canvas  or  in 
bronze,  to  fully  embody  his  own  impressions  and  his  own  way  of 
regarding  things.  In  such  a case  he  cannot  wholly  cut  himself 
off  from  the  stream  of  artistic  activity,  but  he  may  drift  on  one 
side  towards  individual  genius,  on  the  other  towards  a petty 
egotism.  In  any  case  he  will  tend  towards  idiosyncrasy  and 
artistic  chaos.  With  such  phenomena  we  are  quite  familiar 
in  modern  days.  But  they  are  almost  wholly  absent  from 
Greek  art.  The  proof  is  that  in  judging  of  Greek  statues  it  is 
incomparably  easier  to  assign  to  them  a date  and  a school  than 
to  attribute  them  to  an  individual  sculptor. 

Greek  art  is  thus  not  merely  ideal,  but  generically  ideal.  It 
not  only  seeks  beauty,  but  it  is  engaged  in  a social  search  for 
beauty,  and  any  form  of  beauty  recognized  by  an  artist  becomes 
at  once  a part  of  the  common  stock.  Naturally,  on  similar 
principles,  in  portraying  individuals  it  seeks  below  the  surface 
of  the  person  for  what  is  generic  of  the  race,  what  is  permanent 
rather  than  temporary,  what  is  essential  rather  than  accidental. 
Thus  it  is  in  early  times  more  occupied  with  the  production  of 
types  than  of  portraits ; and  even  the  portraits  of  later  Greek 
art  have  in  them  much  of  the  type.  Ideals  may  be  supplied 
to  art  by  a small  school  or  society,  or  by  a race  and  country. 
Or  they  may  come  from  a deeper  source  still,  human  nature,  or 
the  subconscious  life  which  lies  at  the  roots  of  human  nature. 
If  the  ideals  are  narrow  and  local,  the  art  works  only  for  a clique 
or  coterie.  If  they  are  broad  and  thoroughly  human,  the  art 
works  for  a nation,  or  for  the  whole  human  race. 

That  Greek  art  at  its  best  succeeded  in  combining  accuracy 
to  nature  with  an  ideal  which  surpassed  nature  may  be  best 
shown  by  considering  the  effect  of  Greek  masterpieces  in  modern 
days.  When  the  marbles  of  the  Parthenon  were  brought  to 
England,  they  at  once  produced  in  the  world  of  artists  a re- 


XXI  NATURALISM  AND  IDEALISM  IN  GREEK  ART  347 


markable  wave  of  influence.  Dannecker  the  sculptor  observed 
that  the  pedimental  figures  seemed  as  if  moulded  from  nature ; 
yet  such  nature  he  had  never  seen.  Haydon  the  painter  has 
left  us  a most  vivid  account  of  the  effects  the  sculpture  produced 
on  him.1 

“The  first  thing  I fixed  my  eyes  on  was  the  wrist  of  a figure 
in  one  of  the  female  groups,  in  which  were  visible,  though  in  a 
feminine  form,  the  radius  and  the  ulna.  I was  astonished,  for 
I had  never  seen  them  hinted  at  in  any  female  wrist  in  the 
antique.  I darted  my  eye  to  the  elbow,  and  saw  the  outer 
condyle  visibly  affecting  the  shape  as  in  nature.  I saw  that 
the  arm  was  in  repose,  and  the  soft  parts  in  relaxation.  That 
combination  of  nature  and  idea  which  I had  felt  was  so  much 
wanting  for  high  art  was  here  displayed  to  midday  conviction. 
My  heart  beat ! If  I had  seen  nothing  else,  I had  beheld  enough 
to  keep  me  to  nature  for  the  rest  of  my  life.  But  when  I turned 
to  the  Theseus  and  saw  that  every  form  was  altered  by  action 
or  repose  — when  I saw  that  the  two  sides  of  his  back  varied, 
one  side  stretched  from  the  shoulder-blade  being  pulled  for- 
wards, and  the  other  side  compressed  from  the  shoulder-blade 
being  pushed  close  to  the  spine  as  he  rested  on  his  elbow,  .... 
when  I saw  in  fact  the  most  heroic  style  combined  with  all  the 
essential  detail  of  actual  life,  the  thing  was  done  at  once  and 
forever.  ...  I felt  as  if  a divine  truth  had  blazed  inwardly 
on  my  mind,  and  I knew  that  the  marbles  would  at  last  rouse 
the  art  of  Europe  from  its  slumbers  in  the  darkness.” 

Such  was  the  working  of  the  most  ideal  Greek  art  on  the 
mind  of  Haydon.  We  must  remember  that  in  his  time  a con- 
ventional “grand  style”  prevailed,  which  had  removed  far  from 
nature,  and  thus  it  was  the  faithfulness  to  nature  in  the  Parthe- 
non figures  which  especially  impressed  him.  Many  of  us  prob- 
ably now  err  in  the  other  direction,  regarding  the  rendering  of 
nature  as  the  end-all  in  art;  so  that  it  is  the  complementary 

1 Quoted  by  J.  A.  Symonds,  Essays  Speculative  and  Suggestive , p.  122. 


348 


PRINCIPLES  OF  GREEK  ART 


CHAP.  XXI 


lesson  which  we  have  to  learn  from  the  Greek  masterpieces. 
Haydon’s  knowledge  of  ancient  sculpture  was  but  slight.  In 
works  of  the  Pergamene  school,  and  even  the  Apoxyomenos,  he 
would  have  found  even  greater  faithfulness  to  natural  detail 
than  in  the  Parthenon  figures.  What  in  fact  impressed  Haydon 
was  the  vast  superiority  of  great  Greek  originals  to  the  ordinary 
Roman  copy.  The  value  of  these  originals  to  us  is  especially 
that  they  give  us  a noble  embodiment  of  the  Greek  spirit. 

The  Greeks,  by  the  universal  confession  of  artists  and  students 
of  art,  bore  a message  not  only  to  their  own  time  and  country, 
but  to  all  men  in  all  ages.  Their  art  was  classical,  that  is,  con- 
formed to  what  is  permanent  and  above  criticism  in  human  life. 
It  is  for  this  reason  that  it  must  hold  an  important  place  in 
education,  the  main  object  of  which  is,  or  should  be,  to  enable 
the  learner  to  discern  between  good  and  evil.  Thus  all  ages 
must  owe  a debt  to  Greece  for  the  simple  beauty,  the  sanity, 
the  healthfulness  of  the  ideal  element  which  she  introduced  into 
art,  making  it  for  the  first  time  in  history  a true  exponent  of 
the  human  spirit. 


INDEX 


Aegina,  Pediments  of,  103,  114,  118, 
122,  130,  138,  161. 

Aeschylus,  286  seq.,  290  seq.,  320. 

Agasias,  342. 

Alcamenes,  188. 

Alcibiades  as  type,  172. 

Alexander,  Portraits  of,  172,  175  seq.; 
mosaic  of,  207 ; on  Sidon  Sarcoph- 
agus, 313. 

Alexandria,  Influence  of,  144. 

Amelung,  W.,  164. 

Amphora , The,  219. 

Anatomy,  Study  of,  by  artists,  144, 
342. 

Ancestor-worship,  its  influence  on  art, 
55  seq. 

Antenor,  10,  151,  183. 

Antigonus  of  Carystus,  26. 

Antisthenes,  172,  174. 

Apelles,  31,  181  seq.,  203. 

Aphrodite  (Cnidian)  of  Praxiteles,  30. 

Apoxyomenos,  The,  138,  348. 

Apollodorus,  203. 

Archermus,  114. 

Argos,  Art  of,  23,  27,  116,  140. 

Aristion,  Relief  of,  185. 

Aristogeiton,  Portrait  of,  109,  287. 

Aristophanes,  200. 

Aristotle  on  art,  17  seq.,  92,  344. 

Arndt,  P.,  175. 

Arnold,  Matthew,  on  the  Greeks,  335. 

Artemis  of  Ephesus,  91,  159 ; Greek 
types,  92. 

Aspasia,  177. 

Athena,  Statues  of,  24,  31,  87,  111 ; on 
vase,  202,  298  seq. 

Athenaeus  on  early  sculpture,  19. 

Athens  (see  also  Parthenon),  Tombs 
of,  60  seq.;  archaic  art  of,  131  seq., 
169,  178,  185,  188 ; vases  from, 
213  seq.,  285,  307,  314  seq.;  coinage 
of,  332. 

Athletics  in  relation  to  Greek  art, 
16,  19,  75  seq. 


Bacchylides,  285. 

Baldwin  Brown,  151. 

Basilicata,  Vase  of  the,  305,  306. 
Bathycles,  29. 

Benndorf,  O.,  185,  193,  198. 
Black-figured  vases,  214  seq. 

Botticher,  K.,  318. 

Boutmy,  E.,  34,  41,  48. 

Bronze,  Sculpture  in,  111  seq. 

Brucke,  E.,  79,  171. 

Brunn,  H.,  quoted,  22,  72,  130,  227, 
235,  280,  288,  326. 

Bryaxis,  sculptor,  177. 

Butcher,  S.  H.,  quoted,  18. 

Calamis,  26,  31,  161. 

Canachus,  26. 

Carlyle  on  portraits,  168. 

Catagrapha , 182  seq. 

Children  in  Greek  art,  134. 

Chios,  School  of,  114. 

Chiton,  The,  150  seq. 

Choisy,  M.,  45. 

Chorus  scheme  in  vase-painting,  248, 
288. 

Chryselephantine  statues,  111. 
Chrysippus,  21. 

Cicero,  27,  62,  188. 

Cimon  of  Cleonae,  182  seq.,  210. 

Cire  perdue  process,  113. 

Clearchus  of  Rhegium,  111. 

Cleiton  the  sculptor,  15. 

Cleopatra,  178. 

Cnidus,  Lion  of,  55 ; Treasury  of,  at 
Delphi,  126,  150 ; battle  of,  330. 
Coins  in  relation  to  history,  324-333. 
Colour  in  Greek  sculpture,  130  seq. 

in  painting,  203,  205. 

Contamination , 255. 

Continuous  narration  in  vase-painting, 
260  seq. 

Corinthian  style,  45. 

Corneto,  Remains  from,  201,  204. 
Cosmetae,  Portraits  of,  167  seq. 


349 


350 


INDEX 


Cresilas,  sculptor,  170,  173. 

Crimea,  Fainting  from,  204. 

Cypria,  298  seq.,  307. 

Cypselus,  Chest  of,  29,  111,  234,  244. 

Damarete  and  Damareteia,  328  seq. 
Damophon,  94. 

Dancing  in  relation  to  art,  19. 
Dannecker  quoted,  18,  347. 

Decorative  art,  114  seq. 

Demeter,  94,  177. 

Demetrius,  sculptor,  173. 

Demosthenes,  165,  179,  337.  • 

Dickens — “typical,”  25. 

Dion,  329. 

Dionysius  II  of  Syracuse,  329. 

Dipylon,  61  seq. 

Discobolus,  22,  104. 

Dorian  art,  23,  43,  45,  111,  114,  117, 
139;  dress,  149  seq.,  161,  337. 
Dorpfeld,  W.,  4,  5. 

Doryphorus,  The,  21,  23,  135,  140. 
Dress,  Greek,  147-164. 

Duris,  vase-painter,  300. 

Egypt,  Art  of,  17,  55  seq.,  73,  113, 
343. 

Elgin,  Lord,  9. 

Elpinice  as  type,  172. 

Entasis , 39,  106. 

Ephesus,  Temple  of  Artemis  at,  44; 

coins  of,  330. 

Epiblema,  152. 

Epic,  The,  in  relation  to  art,  236  seq. 
Epictetus,  vase-painter,  186,  231. 
Erechtheum,  41. 

Ethos,  23,  171. 

Euphranor,  26,  31,  311. 

Euphronios,  vase-painter,  186,  194, 
197,  215,  218,  234,  255,  300. 
Eupompus,  painter,  344. 

Euripides,  25,  165,  172  seq.,  199,  218, 
249,  267,  285  seq.,  303. 

Evans,  Sir  A.,  4,  5,  73,  286,  328,  331. 
Eye,  The,  in  Greek  sculpture,  141  seq. 

Fortresses,  Greek,  52. 

Frazer,  J.  G.,  28,  333. 

Frieze,  44,  125  seq. 

Frontality  in  Greek  art,  98-109,  135. 
Furtwangler,  A.,  99,  123,  142,  202,  218. 

Galen,  21. 

Gardner,  Ernest  A.,  39,  100,  113,  114. 
Gelo  of  Syracuse,  328. 


Generic  idealism,  346. 

Geometric  designs  on  pottery,  212  seq. 
Goodyear,  W.  H.,  48  seq. 

Guillaume,  E.,  21  seq. 

Hadrian,  Villa  of,  10. 

Hair  in  Greek  sculpture,  142  seq. 
Harmodius,  Statue  of,  169,  287. 

Harpy  tomb,  150,  160. 

Harrison,  J.  E.,  211. 

Haydon,  347. 

Head  and  face  in  Greek  art,  139. 

Head,  B.  V.,  328  seq. 

Helbig,  W.,  206,  296. 

Heracles  on  federal  coins,  330. 
Herculaneum,  Portraits  in,  168. 
Hero-worship,  54  seq.,  96. 

Herodotus,  152,  172,  317,  320,  337. 
pfieron,  vase-painter,  186,  225,  248, 
252,  270  seq.,  301. 

Hill,  G.  F.,  263,  328. 

History,  Art  in  relation  to,  310-323. 
Homer,  242  seq.,  266  seq.,  298,  337. 
Horror  vacui , 223. 

House,  The  Greek,  53. 

Huddilston,  J.  H.,  291. 

Humanism  in  Greek  art,  336  seq. 
Hydria , The,  219,  253. 

Ibycus,  198. 

Idealism  in  Greek  art,  336  seq.,  and 
passim. 

Inscriptions  as  sources  for  Greek  art, 
8 ; on  vases  (Thasian),  197. 

Ionian  art,  23,  45,  114,  117;  dress, 
148  seq.,  161,  337. 

Isocephalism , 129  seq. 

Isocrates  on  Judgment  of  Paris,  304. 

Jahn,  O.,  242,  269,  284. 

Jones,  H.  Stuart,  29,  110. 

Kamareis  pottery,  212. 

Klein,  W.,  215,  265. 

Kliigmann,  A.,  191. 

Kolpos , The,  155,  158. 

Krater,  The,  219. 

Kylix,  The,  219,  220. 

Lamprika,  Relief  from,  144  seq. 

Lange,  J.,  99,  136,  203,  206. 

Laocoon,  180. 

Lau,  T.,  222. 

Lekythos,  The,  120. 

Leochares,  sculptor,  176,  177. 


INDEX 


351 


Lessing’s  Laocoon,  263. 

Locality  indicated  in  art,  258  seq. 

Loewy,  E.,  99,  102,  104  seq.,  137,  142, 
198,  225. 

Lucian,  his  works  on  art,  30  seq.,  173. 

Lyric  poetry  in  relation  to  art,  284  seq. 

Lysicrates,  monument  of,  127,  146, 
164,  285. 

Lysippus,  94,  138,  176,  336,  344. 

MacColl,  N.,  211. 

Mach,  E.  von,  107. 

Marble  and  stone,  Sculpture  in,  113 
seq. 

Mausoleum,  127,  146,  149,  157,  159, 
163,  177. 

Megara,  122. 

Melos,  Terra-cottas  from,  227. 

Messenger  scheme  on  vases,  249,  288. 

Metopes,  43-47,  124  seq. 

Micon,  painter,  186  seq.,  310. 

Minoan  civilization,  4 seq.;  see  My- 
cenaean. 

Mouth,  The,  in  Greek  art,  142. 

Murray,  A.  S.,  106. 

Mycenaean  art,  4,  5,  46,  56,  72  seq., 
91,  93,  99,  111,  113,  148,  183,  211 
seq.,  343. 

Myron,  22,  27,  161. 

Naturalism,  336  seq. 

Newton,  Sir  Chas.,  177. 

Nicias,  Athenian  painter,  132. 

Nike  of  Delos,  103  seq. 

“Nolan”  vases,  229,  233. 

Numismatics,  see  Coins. 

Oenochoe,  The,  219. 

Olympia,  28,  29,  91;  118  seq.,  122,  130, 
161,  259. 

Olympian  deities,  60,  85  seq. 

Oriental  religious  art  compared  with 
Greek,  90. 

Origins,  Study  of,  in  relation  to  the 
history  of  art,  4. 

Orvieto  vase,  189  seq.,  258. 

Overbeck  on  the  types  of  the  Gods, 
95  ; on  Mausoleum,  127. 

Pagasae,  Slabs  from,  210. 

Painting,  Greek,  31,  98,  116,  181-210. 

Paris,  Statue  of,  in  Vatican,  149 ; 
myth  of,  297  seq. 

Parrhasius  the  painter,  13  seq.,  207, 

210. 


Parthenon,  36,  40,  42,  115,  118,  123 
seq.,  125,  127,  129,  141,  145,  155, 
159,  161,  313  seq.,  346  seq. 

Pasiteles,  26. 

Pathos,  23  seq.,  171. 

Pausanias  (the  traveller)  11,  24,  28, 
111,  117,  118,  124,  186,  188,  206, 
244. 

Pediments,  117  seq. 

Penrose,  F.  C.,  39. 

Pericles,  Portrait  of,  170  ; ideas  of,  319. 

Perspective  in  Greek  painting,  187 
seq.,  235  seq.,  307. 

Phidias,  24,  29,  98,  180,  193,  200,  259, 
318. 

Phigaleia,  Frieze  from,  164. 

Plato  on  art,  16  seq.,  203,  267,  308,  343. 

Pliny,  26  seq.,  182. 

Plutarch,  influence,  168,  180,  339;  on 
Alexander,  172. 

Polycleitus,  21,  23,  26,  27,  29,  135. 

Polyeuctus,  sculptor,  178. 

Polygnotus,  23,  27,  29,  182  seq.,  189, 
197  seq.,  210,  250,  258. 

Pompeii,  53,  98,  181,  205  seq.,  259, 
280,  293  seq.,  308. 

Portraits,  Greek,  165-180,  210,  293, 
326. 

Pottier,  E.,  211,  218. 

Poulsen,  F.,  5. 

Praxiteles,  10,  24,  30,  94,  124,  132, 
135,  137,  140,  163,  286. 

Preraphaelite  art,  341,  244. 

Protogenes,  painter,  135. 

Pythagoras,  sculptor,  332. 

Pyxis , The,  220. 

Quintilian,  24,  27. 

Red-figured  vases,  severe,  215  seq. ; 
free,  216  seq. ; late,  218;  genre , 261. 

Religion  in  relation  to  art,  76,  83  seq. 

Rhodes,  Vase  from,  233  ; coins  of,  330. 

Rhoecus  of  Samos,  112. 

Rhythm,  22  seq.,  127. 

Robert,  Karl,  187,  245,  256,  263,  269, 
272  seq.,  284,  288. 

Rome  adopts  Athena  type,  88. 

Ruvo,  Vase  of,  294. 

Samos,  Coins  of,  330. 

Sappho,  177. 

Sarapis,  94. 

Scopas,  24,  140,  177,  286. 

Schliemann,  H.,  4,  72  seq. 


352 


INDEX 


Selinus,  Metopes  from,  102  seq.,  285. 

Sidon,  Sarcophagi  from,  127,  129,  131, 
163,  177,  311. 

Socrates,  views  on  art  and  life,  13 
seq.,  338. 

Sophocles,  25,  172,  175,  302. 

Space,  Relations  of  art  to,  115  seq. 

Sparta,  Hero-worship  in,  54  seq. 

Sphyrelaton,  technique,  111. 

Stephani,  L.,  253,  308. 

Stesichorus,  poetical  innovator,  284 
seq. 

Strangford  Apollo,  The,  138. 

Symmetry,  21  seq.,  226  seq.,  313. 

Symonds,  J.  A.,  336  seq.,  347. 

Syracuse,  Coinage  of,  328  seq. 

Tanagra,  Statuettes  of,  133,  163. 

Tarentum,  Vases  of,  250,  253,  288,  321 ; 
coins  of,  331. 

Temple,  The  Greek,  33-50,  117  seq. 

Tenea,  The  Apollo  of,  138. 

Theatre,  the  Greek,  Architecture  of, 
52. 

Thebes,  Coin-type  of,  331. 

Theodorus  of  Samos,  112. 

Thucydides  on  dress,  150 ; his  por- 
traits, 172  ; his  humanism,  337. 


Timotheus,  sculptor,  177. 

Tomb,  The  Greek,  53-71,  127. 

Treu,  G.,  118,  132. 

Triptolemus,  Myth  of,  on  vases,  251 
seq. 

Trysa  in  Lycia,  Tomb  at,  127,  193, 
198. 

Varro,  26. 

Vinci,  Lionardo  da,  20  seq. 

Vitruvius,  45. 

Vogel,  J.,  290. 

Walters,  H.  B.,  211. 

Welcker,  F.  G.,  309. 

Wickhoff,  F.,  342. 

White-ground  vases,  217  seq. 

Xanthus,  Nereid  Monument  of,  310. 
Xenocrates,  26. 

Xenophon,  Memorabilia  Socratis,  13 
seq. 

Zacynthus,  Coins  struck  at,  329, 
331. 

Zeus,  Statues  of,  88,  112,  176;  on 
coins,  332,  333. 

Zeuxis,  27,  181  seq.,  203,  210. 


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